Genie-Ish
by CCommons
Summary: She doesn't live in a bottle, she doesn't grant wishes, but she'll do whatever she's told. Just another powerful tool in the Winchester's arsenal. Dean/OC
1. No Rubbing Required

**Chapter 1**

 **No Rubbing Required**

 **A/N:** I can't believe I'm writing this. Supernatural is a roller coaster of a crap show and an amazing show that makes me want to cry and have vivid dreams of a certain Winchester. Either way, I've been forced by my unwanted love for this shit-show to tackle a story. Here we go.

* * *

"So this ring was like...Aladdin's lamp?"

The curator chuckled at Dean's question, "Only by rumor. According to his journal, Nathaniel Commons spent his spare time studying the occult. He swore to some other believers that he could make the perfect servant based off the original story of the Genie in the Lamp, and they say he succeeded."

Sam was a little confused, "He succeeded?"

"So says rumor...and his journal." She stopped at a door with a plain sign that read 'archives'. "When the ring was stolen we took the journal off display."

The brothers looked to each other knowingly as she pulled down a metal box. When she opened it, it was lined in velvet and a black, leather-bound book set nestled inside. "Here it is."

"Do you mind if we take it into evidence?"

"Of course not. We're sure it'll be safer with you guys."

"Thank you, we'll take it from here then."

When she left the Winchesters shed their FBI facade. Dean looked disbelievingly at his little brother, "Why do you keep dragging me to museums?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Hey, it's not my fault ghosts hang around old dusty jewelry."

"This better not be another angry girlfriend."

"I doubt it really. Why would a ghost break a glass case?"

The older brother huffed as he tucked the smallish leather book away in his trench coat. "Here's hoping it's some nut job just trying to get a payday."

* * *

"I didn't see a book."

"What do you mean you didn't see it?"

"I searched the place. It wasn't on display, it wasn't in the archives..."

The man in the high backed chair held up his hand. Stopping the younger who shifted nervously and shoved his hands in his denim pockets. "Should have grabbed it the first time... You had a simple job."

The younger chuckled, "I mean, it's just a book right? I'll still get paid for nabbing the ring?"

"One would think. I don't need it to use this." He lent forward and put his elbows on the large desk. The desk lamp glinted off the item between his fingers. A gold signet ring. "It's a...family heirloom. Maybe I'll just get someone better suited to get the book. She's connected to it after all."

"Um...she?"

The ring was on his finger when he grinned slightly and kissed it, "Come here."

The young man took a step forward until he felt a presence at his back.

The woman who brushed passed him looked thoroughly disgusted with being summoned. Her pouted lips were turned in a grimace, her green eyes were narrowed. She was taller than your average woman with caramel skin and a lion's mane of curls. She approached the desk, "Where did you get that?"

"My great great grandfather would have left it to me. But he didn't know I existed."

"Liar-"

"Ah ah." He held up a hand again then pointed over her shoulder, "Kill him."

She didn't miss this. The way she was forced out of her body, But never out of her head. She could think about the wrongness of what she was doing, how it made her feel. But her body would always move on it's own. Doing whatever she'd been told.

The young man had heard the order and turned to run, but her hands were at the side of his face and the thought of her snapping his neck didn't come as fast as the actual action.

"Now, go get the book."

* * *

"Alright I got a picture."

Sam picked up his computer and moved over to the edge of the motel bed where his brother sat. Dean handed his brother the yellowed image.

"It's a servant." the younger eyed the image. The woman in the photo was a blend of so many emotions; even captured and frozen here. She stood with her shoulders up, the dress she wore was fine, but not too fine. Her curly hair was pulled back from her face, twisted away and tied under a white scarf. Her eyes were cast down mostly but the brightness of them was still visible in the colorless photo. She was standing alone outside a splendid house.

"Check out the back."

He turned the paper over in his large hands, "Anna." there was nothing else, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Her name comes up a lot in the book. She was this Nathaniel guy's maid, apparently his favorite."

Sam got where this was going, "This is her. The genie."

"Got me."

The new voice made the brothers shoot up from their seated positions. The woman took a deep breath and held out a caramel hand, "I only came for the journal. Give it to me and I'll leave."

"You're Anna?"

She looked severely impatient, "I don't go by that name anymore. Give me the book."

"I don't care what name you go by." Dean reached for his gun with his free hand, the other clenching the journal. "You're not getting this book."

Her head cocked slightly to one side, "So intent on protecting that book but couldn't protect my ring from that imposter?"

"Imposter?" Sam asked.

She flexed the fingers of her outstretched hand and the book flew from Dean's hold. She took a step back as Dean pointed his gun at her. "Yes, imposter."

"Dean, please..."

The older hesitated, gun still up, "Did you not steal the ring?"

"The fake great grandson of my Nathaniel hired a mortal to do it."

"Why are you telling us this?"

"My new master wasn't smart enough to tell me not to. I have to do what I'm told," she waggled the leather-bound journal at them, "but I wanted nothing more to do with my ring's existence."

"What is he planning to do with it?"

Sam was doing most of the talking, but an angsty and gun pointing Dean was pulling her focus. He rocked slightly where he stood and his expression exuded mistrust, he gun wavered in a way that showed his struggle with just wanting to shoot her. The woman continued to watch him but answered the younger brother, "I don't know."

"Can you find out? I mean, if you're on our side-"

"Hold it Sam." Dean started, "No one said she was on our side."

The woman flicked through the book, noticing her picture was missing. She saw it just there, on one of the beds and sighed. Gesturing it over to her like she did the book. After gazing at her own face, then turning it over to the back, she offered it to Sam.

He hesitated in taking it but did eventually remove it from her slim fingers.

"Dammit!" The older kicked over the nearest chair as the woman disappeared from the room.

Sam just looked at the back of the picture. The name Anna had been crossed out with one neat line, interesting because she never picked up a pen, and was replaced with, "Chelsea."

* * *

"Two men had the book?"

Chelsea nodded, "Hunters."

Matthew Warren didn't want this news. He figured the theft would attract average police force, not hunters. The ring was just a story to most. That's how it and the book ended up in a small occult museum anyway; and how it stayed there for as long as it had. History saw Nathaniel Commons as a rich man with too much time on his hands who tortured a mutt housemaid named Anna.

"What do they know?"

It was a question she didn't have to answer. Not a direct order like the next thing he uttered which forced an eye-roll from her, "Answer the question."

"They know of Nathaniel. They know who I am and what I'm called now."

"Did you tell them that? Answer me."

"Yes."

He slapped her and it hardly turned her head, "Why?"

She shrugged, another question she didn't have to answer. But she chose to, "Because you're an imposter, a thief, and a murderer."

"This ring is my birthright!"

Anger didn't suit his face. Meaning he didn't look the part of someone who descended from an aristocratic witch. His dark hair curled in awkward directions, his glasses sat somewhat crooked on his nose, and his overall stance and posture just screamed average and unimportant. He didn't match the splendor around him.

As compared to Chelsea who stood tall and straight, shoulders back, green gaze cast down her nose just so. The way Nathaniel taught her to carry herself when he wanted to show her off to his other rich and magical friends. The man himself was very well groomed for the eighteen hundreds, slicked back dark hair and strong grey eyes. A broad chest and elegant yet menacing aura. He was a vision and the maid on his arm became a weapon and most trusted companion.

He would have told her of a lover or fathered child.

"I would know of a child fathered by Nathaniel. Your precious ancestor doesn't exist."

"Oh?" He moved the grand desk in the room, trying to calm himself. He took off his glasses and smoothed back his hair. Just there, she saw him, her Nathaniel, "How do you think I came to learn about you?"

"I don't really care."

"Sit."

Chelsea did as she was told on a small leather tuft and Matthew sat in his high-backed leather chair. He gazed at the ring as he talked, "The women in my family resented you. Meager witches in the face of his great servant. His genie. Our great great grandmother was denied her status as the mother of his child as he denied even sleeping with her!" he chuckled dryly, "Never able to prove it until I was born; the first male."

"You look like him." Chelsea admitted, "Too much like him..."

"So you've noticed. I do clean up quite nicely."

"Why now? Why not properly lay claim to the ring...to me?"

"Because there's no time. Something is coming. And I need all the power possible to protect myself. I needed you."

* * *

"What the hell do you expect to find with just a name, Sam?"

The younger turned away from his computer for a moment, "I have to try Dean. Chelsea is a weapon, this guy, he wants her for a reason." he hesitated, "Maybe to fight off the darkness somehow."

"She can't be that powerful."

"How would you know?"

The brothers jumped and Dean fumbled for his gun again as the woman appeared at the other side of the small motel room table. Sam stood up, knocking over his chair, "You came back."

"I was told to."

"What?"

"I was told to kill you. My master can't have hunters after him while he prepares for whatever is coming."

"What? Wait, I thought you said he was an impostor."

She sighed, "I was wrong."

Sam didn't get much time to decipher her change in stance and her dropped gaze as a bullet snapped her head backward and she hit the floor, hard. "Dean!"

"What? She said she was here to kill us." He walked over to the body and shrugged, "See, not so powerful after all."


	2. With This Ring

**Chapter 2**

 **With This Ring...**

 **A/N: If you've seen this chapter go up then disappear; it's because I uploaded the wrong version. sorry!**

* * *

"Jesus christ Dean!" Sam fell to the woman's side and placed his fingers at her neck for a pulse. Nothing.

"Look Sam, as far as I'm concerned, we killed the thing so we can move on. No monster equals useless book and ring right?"

"She was a girl! Not a monster."

"She's over like three hundred years old and still looks like that old photo. If it walks like a monster and talks like a monster..."

A deep breath sent the younger brother backwards and made the older hold up his gun again. Chelsea shot up into a sitting position, sucking air into her lungs. She leaned forward and put a hand on her forehead, she took it away to reveal the bullet and a healing wound.

Sam breathed, "What the hell..."

She heard the gun hammer pull back that time and sent the weapon across the room. "Don't shoot me again!" she shouted, "I can still feel pain when I die."

"Why shouldn't I gank you! You're gonna do the same to us!"

"Gank?" she shook her curls, "Look, a death is a reset for me. I have to be given an order again after death in order to follow it."

"So?"

"So I choose not to kill you." She made eye contact, being sure they saw her honesty. Sam gathered himself and stood, helping her do the same.

"You can't be serious here. Pick a side." Dean demanded.

"I have! My own. I want to be left alone, not told what to do!"

"Why don't you just take the ring and the book?" Sam offered.

She took a deep breath, still trying to settle back into herself, "I can't touch the ring, it's a condition of the magic used on it to control me. As for the book...I know all the magic in it already, every word. I didn't want it anymore."

Dean wasn't amused, "So you thought the best thing to do would be to put both those things in the same dinky museum?"

"No. I thought making people believe Nathaniel was a rich man with nothing better to do would make the story of the ring one nobody really believed. I didn't count on a blood relative."

"Why not?"

"Because when one didn't step up after the first hundred years..."

Dean held up a hand in dismissal and glared at the woman, "Can we please get back to how you just shook off a silver bullet to the brain?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah...that was...unexpected."

Chelsea rolled her eyes. Matthew could call her back any second if she took too much longer and they wanted to ask trivial questions. "I'm immortal. It doesn't matter what you use or how, my heart will _always_ restart. I don't have time for questions. I need help."

"With what?"

"Finding out who this man is! He could call me back any second and re-order me to kill you."

"I could always just keep shooting you in the head." Dean offered from across the room where he retrieved his gun.

"We don't have the time. He talked about some threat that's coming, the reason he needed me now."

The brothers looked at each other in that way they do, 'The Darkness.'

Chelsea continued, not noticing, "I don't think this is just about protection. I sense something else from him. Something not quite all there."

"You think he's evil." Sam offered.

"Yes. Nathaniel wasn't necessarily a white witch...but he wasn't a dark one either."

"This guy, what's his name?"

"Matthew Warren."

The brothers flinched again as she disappeared. Called back by this Matthew no doubt.

"Great. What now?"

Sam settled back at his computer, "We find out what we can about this Warren guy."

* * *

"No one was there."

Matthew took a deep breath and paced across the length of his desk, "Fine. They're just hunters, I can handle them myself if I need to. I have another job for you."

"Which would be?"

"The death of these people." he handed her a list of names.

"I'm not a weapon. You can't keep sending me out to kill people!"

"I can when you belong to me. I own you. And these people had the nerve to shun me and what I know to be true about witchcraft."

"Are these people witches?"

"No."

"Then you can't expect them to understand! Magic isn't for the average man! If you were really related to Nathaniel you'd know that."

Matthew approached her, "His problem was surrounding himself with humans who enjoyed his way of life as a game. People need to take these things more seriously. Especially now." He grabbed her wrist, the paper trembling in her grip. "People like them hold us back. Go and kill them. Make sure they know who sent you."

* * *

"Check this out. Matthew Warren is a professor at the local community college, he teaches Occult Studies. Looks like he used to teach at a more prestigious university...but he was asked not to return a year ago."

Dean moved his chair around the small table to sit next to his brother. "What happened?"

Sam clicked around and scrolled, "Says here several other professors in the department worried about his mental state. He was teaching his students beyond the scope of, as they put it, what was historically acceptable."

"Not clear enough..."

"He was basically trying to convince his students that magic was real. Casting spells in class and causing hysteria among them when they started to believe the spells were working. He put five students in a mental facility."

"So he's a total nut job _and_ a witch, joy."

"I can't find anything that says he's related to this Commons guy. His bloodline only goes as far back as some woman named Melinda who was alive at the same time Nathaniel was."

"Ok, did she attend any of his little occult parties?"

"I can't find anything that would suggest it. Nathaniel's followers were all regular humans as far as I can tell, they didn't take his magic too seriously, not even Anna. They thought she was just a super obedient maid."

Dean took over the laptop, wanting to be able to see for himself, "Hm...Melinda Warren wasn't even in the same tax bracket as this guy. He was rich and she was apparently dirt poor." the older brother sighed as he clicked on a link to show him an archival picture, "And she was a witch."

He turned the computer to his little brother, the only image of her was drawn, made sense for so long ago when camera's only existed two at a time... The dead giveaway was the pentacle around her neck.

"So we know she was a witch...still doesn't explain the secret lovechild theory."

"Of course it does. Chelsea's in denial. Nathaniel slept with this woman and didn't tell her. He didn't have to tell her everything, she was a servant."

Sam wasn't so sure.

"I don't know Dean."

"Look. As far as we know, this guy just wants what he's owed. I say we gank 'em both."

The taller brother stood, "Can we at least go talk to these other professors?"

"Sure. Whatever."

* * *

"Oh my god."

They were too late. Mostly. Four professors at the university had their names down on the case brought against Matthew Warren; three of them were already dead. It was happening so fast. So now they needed answers, and to keep her alive.

"Look professor, we know this is hard. But we need to know everything you know to help you."

She put a hand on her forehead and sat down. The Winchesters standing at the ready. Chelsea could be there any minute, "W-what do you want to know?"

"Matthew Warren, what did he do to his students?"

"Exposed them. We teach occult studies to broaden people's understanding of it. We knew his bloodline, his ancestor is in our books...but we never suspected the magic to be real."

"Go figure." Dean wasn't satisfied. "What do you know about Melinda Warren?"

"She was crazy. She was obsessed with having a powerful bloodline and was always looking for the perfect mate."

"Do you think she could have found one with Nathaniel Commons?"

She was amused by the question, almost so much so that her fear disappeared, "He may not have been above sleeping with her, but Nathaniel couldn't have children."

"Who told you that?"

The brothers stood before the professor and Chelsea took a deep breath, "I got no answers from the others. So I followed my orders. The least you can do is give me something before I kill you too."

The blonde cowered behind the Winchesters.

"Where do you get off killing people for answers?" Dean stepped forward.

"I don't. But I can at least try since _you_ have nothing for me."

"What do you think we're doing here?"

Chelsea hesitated, closing her eyes to take another deep breath. She held up a hand when she opened her eyes and the brothers flew to separate ends of the room, "Tell me how you know this about Nathaniel..."

The professor shook, "Old medical records. His inability to have children is believed to be the reason why he dove into his magic. Why he became so obsessed with-"

"You're lying! He would have told me..."

Dean started to chuckle from his position pinned to the wall, "Something he didn't confide in you? Shocker. Why would he need to tell everything to the help?"

The witch pulled him off the wall a bit and slammed him back into it for good measure. Sam winced at the sound of his brothers head cracking the drywall. "This just proves Matthew _is_ an imposter right!"

Chelsea's eyes were wet when she looked to him, "He looks just like my Nathaniel. I saw it when he..." she reached up, starting to follow his gesture when he pushed back his hair, took off his glasses, "He looks just like him..."

"Melinda Warren cast a spell to get pregnant without Nathaniel's knowledge." The professor took a step back when the other woman focused back on her, "I mean, that makes the most sense. Any piece of him, a hair maybe, she could use in a spell to make herself conceive."

"There's no such spell!"

"Melinda may have created one in her search for the perfect mate. She was obsessed with the perfect bloodline."

"If he's so perfect why can't he protect himself?"

Sam had more than enough time to get across the room and sink a knife into Chelsea's lung. Killing her before she completed her order. She snapped her gaze to him in surprise though and held his sleeve tight in her hand. Dean ushered the professor out, "Go, go now!"

When he looked back at his little brother Chelsea was still holding his gaze. Sam took a moment to glance at his brother then said, "She's trying to tell me something."

"Spit it out witch!"

Chelsea could feel her right lung filling with blood and coughed when she opened her mouth, "S-six…sixteen glendale."

"Sixteen Glendale?"

She only nodded before she lent forward slightly. Her body relaxing and Sam lowering her to the floor.

"What the fuck is sixteen glendale?"

"Glendale sounds like some kind of street name…" the younger tried.

The brothers got it at the same time. Address. She was giving them an address to go to. Now the trick was getting there before she woke back up.


	3. I Thee Control

**Chapter 3**

… **I Thee Control**

 **A/N: Meh.**

* * *

"Look."

Dean slowed the car as they passed the address. Sixteen Glendale was a large house. Much larger than they expected. The drive was long the hedges were trimmed; the whole place seemed to be glistening.

"Think she's in there?"

"Won't know until we get inside ourselves." the older answered.

They did that thing they do before they handle business. The gear-up pow-wow at the trunk. The discussion of business at hand before things got out of hand. The younger, the voice of second chances and good intentions, and the older more interested in just _finishing the job_.

"What do we do about Chelsea?"

"Kill her."

"And then? When she wakes up?"

Dean sighed and looked at his brother, "Oh yeah...What do you suggest?"

"She could help."

"What makes you think she'll want to?"

"She's not bad Dean, I know you can tell. She's spent all these years just living quietly. This Warren guy disrupted her peace."

"That's not really our problem Sam. In fact, this wouldn't really be a problem if she hadn't killed a bunch of innocent people."

"She can only do what she's told Dean."

"And you think she could or would be of some help with Amara?" He closed the trunk.

The younger couldn't believe he was about to say something so manipulative, but he said it, "What choice does she have if we have the ring?"

"Well then..." Dean motioned for his brother to lead the way.

As they moved up the walkway to the front door, Chelsea crossed her arms and lent her hip on the car. "No choice huh?" It figures she'd get yanked out of some semblance of peace by an imposter only to get screwed over by hunters.

 _"There will be times, as you walk free, that you'll still be treated like a slave."_

Nope. Not this time.

Inside the house, Matthew Warren calmly poured himself a drink and returned to his desk as the brothers entered his study, weapons drawn. He smiled at them and gestured to the chairs before his desk, "Please hunters, sit."

They looked at each other and just as Dean opened his mouth with a very snappy flannel-clad retort, the brothers were forcefully flung into the leather seats. "He asked you to have a seat."

"Back from the dead?" Matthew asked the woman as he sat in the chair behind his desk.

Chelsea put a hand on his shoulder as she stood at his side, "And waiting for orders."

"Did you finish your chore?"

"Of course. All dead."

The brothers were aware that she'd just lied to him. But still were pretty confused with her willingness to stand at his side like that. Matthew noticed too, "Seems like you're warming up to me, Anna."

She blinked slowly as he used the name she clearly had wanted to leave in the past. But managed to otherwise look unbothered. "You're his son, that ring belongs to you, therefore so do I."

He smiled and covered her hand and with his own, "Now, hunters, how can I help you?"

"We can't stand by while a witch is killing people." Sam bit.

"With what's coming anyone who can't protect themselves will die anyway. I did them a favor." Matthew sipped his drink.

"What do you know about it?" Dean asked.

"I don't." the witch admitted, "But anyone with power and sense can tell that it's big. The biggest we've seen."

"So Chelsea is your secret weapon?" Sam offered.

"You could say that."

"Amara is what's coming." Dean said matter-of-factly. Or as matter-of-factly one can say anything when being pinned to a chair.

"Amara?"

"God's sister." Sam said with a raised brow.

Chelsea took a deep breath and did her best not to smirk as she squeezed Matthew's shoulder to get his attention, "I don't have the power to fight something like that."

This was news for all the men in the room. The common misconception about her was that because she could not die, she was powerful. In reality, she was no stronger than your average witch. She moved to sit on the desk, close to Matthew, with her back to the brothers. She moved his chin in her direction, taking the hunters out of his line of sight.

"I was just a toy. Common information."

Sam felt the force pinning him to the chair let-up. Dean looked on, confused, as he was still pinned. Chelsea continued as the younger Winchester eased from his seat, towards his forgotten gun.

"A very expensive toy who did what she was told, and sometimes things she wasn't." her gaze softened as she took in his features. "Like making sure I don't get used again."

"Shoot her Sam!"

A lot happened in the next few seconds; seemingly all in one motion. Chelsea turned her attention to Dean, shocked by his shout and flung him and his chair across the room. Sam stood and fired his gun, but not at the woman. Mid order, Matthew took Sam's bullet to the forehead and went limp in his chair.

The woman was unsure how to feel as she looked at his body. She looked at Sam, then to Dean scrambling to get up, then to the gold ring. She was never to touch it, and Matthew had been very careful to never touch her with his right hand, where he wore the ring on his pointer finger. She remembered though, what it was like pulling it from his hand when he died.

 _The other maids covered him with a sheet and left the room with the doctor. Anna stayed behind in the candlelit room and stared at the body under the sheet. Nathaniel Commons had died naturally and peacefully. An old man of 50, very old for those times, who'd spent his last few years looking to reverse what he'd done to her._

 _"I'm sorry, Anna."_

 _"Please, don't apologize."_

 _"Your life, I've taken it from you." he cupped her cheek, "That was never my intention. I will fix this."_

 _Of course, he never got the chance to. She was still the fresh face of twenty-three when his experiment worked, even all these years later._

 _She approached the bed and pulled out his hand from the wrist. The ring slid off and the moment she enclosed it in her hand...she dropped it to the floor and clutched her chest. Her heart beat faster, breaths came in shallow bursts, she felt her eyes burn and rubbed them; pulling her palms away to smears of blood. He'd said she was never to touch it, she had no idea it would do_ _ **that**_ _._

"Dean!"

Chelsea dropped to the floor behind the desk. She convulsed and shook, struggling to breathe. Her eyes rolled back and blood pooled in the corners of her eyes and mouth.

Sam was first at her side, not really sure what to do as she seized on the floor. Her right hand was balled tightly into a fist and he tried to pry her fingers open. Despite her condition she seemed to fight back. Determined to not let the hunter have what was in her hand. The older brother managed to limp over and stand over the woman. He was getting real tired of shooting her.

Her hand opened up as her body went limp and Sam carefully took the ring between two fingers, "I think this thing almost killed her for real."

"She said she wasn't supposed to touch it, that is was part of the magic that bound her to this thing." Dean took the ring from her brother, "Did she just try to kill herself on purpose?"

"Maybe she overheard our plan."

A sigh, "Maybe. Would rather die than be used." the older put the ring in his pocket and holstered his gun. "Too bad." He grunted as he squatted and hefted her up into his arms.

Sam stood confused, "Dean, what are you doing?"

"Can't leave her here. Ring and girl is a package deal. C'mon Sammy."

* * *

 _"This one is yours right?"_

 _"What happened?" Nathaniel Commons looked on in shock as two men entered his home, between them they supported Anna's body, the front of her dress covered in blood._

 _"We didn't see."_

 _"Found her by the docks."_

 _Matthew ushered them up the stairs and into a room. Thanking them and calling on another maid to pay them and call the doctor. He rushed back to the bed, "Anna, what happened?"_

 _She could only shake her head. "Tell me what happened." he ordered, trying to keep his voice even._

 _"A man... man walked into me."_

 _Her vision was going. The blood had ruined her fine dress and now the sheets. Nathaniel was still demanding her to answer and she could feel the magic pulling but couldn't move her mouth. As the room went dark she felt one more order, "Wake up!"_

"Holy shit!"

Dean swerved violently on the empty two-lane road as Chelsea reached into the front seat and wrapped her arm around his neck, "Sam! Ring!"

The younger brother got the ring from his brother's pocket and clutched it in his palm before shouting, "Stop!"

The woman sat back in her seat and huffed, "Where am I?"

"None of your business." the older answered and Chelsea lent forward a bit, ready to attack him again.

"Hey." Sam held up his closed fist, "Chill out."

She didn't want to let up but she was slightly grateful for the loss of tension in her shoulders as she did what she was told and relaxed into the seat. She let out a deep breath and looked out the window, "You don't plan on giving that back do you?"

Sam glanced at his brother and slid the ring onto his finger, "No."

Another sigh, "Great."

The rode in silence for a while, the brothers exchanging poor whispers between each other. Debating over their options as she idly listened. "You were going to kill him, weren't you?"

She looked up at the sound of the younger's voice, "Yeah, I was."

"So it's possible?" Dean asked, "You can kill whoever is wearing the ring if you really wanted to?"

"Yup." she eyed Sam, "Unless i'm told otherwise."

"Don't kill me." He said immediately.

Chelsea rolled her eyes, "Sure."

"Why'd you take it?"

"Take what?" the woman answered, eyes still glued to the window.

"Why'd you take the ring? You knew what it would do to you right?"

"I don't answer two-part questions." she answered, much to Dean's annoyance.

"Just answer the question." Sam offered.

"I took it because I knew exactly what it would do to me. Hopefully it would kill me for real."

"Dying was more inviting than living?"

She made sure to make eye contact through the rearview mirror, "Than living as a slave? Yeah, much more inviting."

The brothers looked at each other then fell silent. No need to push the issue. The Impala pulled into the underground garage of the bunker and slowed to a stop. In the moment Chelsea was taking in the old cars and motorcycles through the window Sam tuned to her with, "Stay here."

He motioned for his brother to join him outside the car and put his elbows on the roof of the car, "I think we should let her go."

"What? Sam!"

"Hear me out, Dean." He glanced down then lowered his voice some more, "We don't need her around right now. I think it's only right we build some trust maybe?"

The older Winchester wasn't convinced but rolled his eyes and mimicked his brother's gesture, putting his elbows on the roof of Baby, "What do you suggest?"

"We let her go for now. Call on her only when we need the extra help."

"We both heard her back there, Sam, she can't beat Amara."

"An ally is an ally, Dean."

The boys looked at each other for a touch longer before Dean opened the passenger door on his side. Sam shouted over the car, "You can come out."

"So I can go?" she asked as soon as Dean closed the door. Her answer to their looks was, "Neither of you can whisper for shit."

"You can leave." he took off the ring and started to hand it to his brother, "This stays here."

"Don't give that to him."

Sam pulled his hand back as Dean demanded, "Why the hell not?"

"I don't like you."

The younger couldn't help a chuckle as he put the ring back on. With a mumble of latin she was gone. Dean sort of pouted at his younger brother, "That's fine. I don't like her either."


	4. Savior (Converging Roads)

**Chapter 4**

 **Savior (Converging Roads)**

* * *

"What happened?"

In the same moment Sam gulped in air Chelsea arrived at his side, "I said what happened?"

He continued to struggle to breathe then reached down to his abdomen. The witch then noticed his blood soaked shirt. She looked around the obviously empty cabin, "Did your brother leave you here?"

Loopy from blood loss, Sam rested his head back on the floor, "G-guess so..."

She huffed as she started trying to sit him up and said, "He left the ring on you. Must have had some hope in you being alive."

"M...must have."

 _"Sam? Sam!"_

 _"I'm sorry. But he's gone. We need to get out of here."_

 _Dean looked down at his brother, unmoving and not breathing. His gaze lingered on the ring and he reached for it, stopping short. "You hold onto that, just in case, and I'll be back. I promise."_

Sam grunted, busy trying to get his legs to obey so he didn't crush the woman under his weight. "Did...did I call?"

"Not directly. Just for help in general." They started for the door of the cabin but the witch stopped, "What is that?"

This time the Winchester did hear and motioned to the window. They watched as a truck came from between the trees and stumbled trying to get out of sight, "I'm going to ask again what's going on?"

It took him a moment to catch his breath, "Werewolves."

Chelsea just took a deep breath and scanned the cabin. It was all completely open. No place to put him jumped out at her until she saw a door off a small hallway, "Here, that might be a basement." the truck stopped outside, "C'mon!" she hissed.

Her leather jacket was slicked with his blood and her white shirt stained. She felt her forehead break out in a bit of a sweat as they took the stairs one at a time. It wasn't fast enough at all and he was so heavy. Half way down someone lost footing and they both tumbled.

"Shit. Are you ok?"

Sam gurgled in response and his wound was now gushing blood.

The woman tousled her curls in frustration and hoisted the hunter up, "I know," was her answer to his strained cry, "But I gotta get you out of sight."

"You need my help." Sam tried.

"I actually don't." She hustled him over to a corner, behind some rotted shelving and eased him to the floor, "Don't move and stay as quiet as possible."

"They'll find me here." It was a pretty obvious hiding spot.

"Oh they'll check here. But they won't see you." She held up a hand, "Visus redicem suam."*

* * *

Chelsea looked up to follow the werewolve's steps across floor on the room above them. His gait caused dust to fall between the wooden slats and into her face and hair. She tried to listen for the other one but didn't hear anything. Sam was being quiet as asked and it afforded her a short moment.

 _"Dammit!" the witch chucked her deck across the table, cards flying everywhere. She put her face in her hands then slammed a palm on the table, right on top of the now neatly stacked cards._

 _She took a deep breath and shuffled them again. Her hands repetitively moving the cards until she could just feel that it was well blended enough and the card she needed lay at the top. Her eyes closed almost in a little prayer as she took the top card and turned it over. Wheel of Fortune, again._

 _A sign of destiny and direction._

 _A sign that she was supposed to be involved with these hunters at this point in her never-ending life._

 _Chelsea didn't throw the deck this time and instead placed it calmly on the table. It was time to accept her path._

The footsteps hit the bottom of the stairs and Chelsea took another breath, watching him bend over to touch the puddle of blood left behind by the wounded Winchester. His direct line of sight should be where she placed Sam, aided by the fact that the hunter should be the only thing he could smell.

Sam fought the urge to push himself closer to the wall. Blood was gushing from between his fingers and the werewolf had honed in on it. Smirking as he got closer. He reached out and toppled a shelf near him, confusion all over his features at the sight of nothing behind it.

"Hey."

The Winchester was a bit slack-jawed as Chelsea stabbed him through the heart. Dropping the large werewolf with a thud. The other, a woman, was already opening the basement door. The witch disappeared and the other woman rolled the entire length of the stairs. Hitting the bottom and going limp.

Chelsea walked down calmly and sighed, "Alright, now what?"

"We need to find Dean."

She reached down to the female and grabbed the knife and what she was sure were keys to the truck, "Any idea where he is?"

Chelsea pocketed the keys then took a moment to figure out grip and footing and headed for the stairs with the wounded hunter. Sam, again, focused on staying standing to not crush her, "None."

"Oh joy." She paused to take a couple steps, "Can you call him?"

"No service."

The two reached the top of the stairs and shuffled across to the door. "I'm just going to bring the truck to you. Can you walk alone?"

"Yeah, I got it."

He waited for her to pull the truck around and climbed in; gasping and bleeding all over the seat. The woman watched him, her expression a mix of concern and annoyance, "You need a hospital, not your brother."

"He's with the person who tried to kill me."

"Excuse me?"

"We saved two people. But one of them strangled me." he winced and put his forehead on the dash, "I-"

"You would have slowed them down." Chelsea cut him off, sort of nodding to herself, "I probably would have killed you too."

Sam managed a weak chuckle and a sarcastic, "Thanks."

"So what's the deal? I thought the world was ending?"

"We didn't have any leads on Amara..."

Chelsea nodded, "So this was just something to do."

The Winchester nodded and she scoffed, " Ever heard of television? A lot less dangerous than werewolves..."

Silence fell over the truck for a few moments before Sam looked over at her again. Watching her bite her lip and sort of mutter to herself, "You didn't have to come and help me." He interrupted.

"So I'm supposed to ignore a cry for help?"

"But I didn't call for help."

Chelsea smirked at him, "Subconsciously. And that," she said pointing to the ring, "let me hear it. As faint as it was...I almost missed it."

"You could have ignored it."

"I know."

"Then why didn't you?"

She handed him something. When he took it he recognized the glinting tarot card but wasn't really sure what she meant by it.

"Basically just my way of saying there's no way around my situation. I'm tethered to that ring for better or worse." she slowed the vehicle to a stop as they neared a gate, the Winchester's Impala parked on the other side, "Which means I'm tethered to you."

He nodded, a silent thanks, and she nodded back, "You should have service now. Let's find your shitty brother."

* * *

 _"Your brother's not dead."_

 _"_ Sammy?"

 _ **"Dean? Yeah, it's me."**_

"Oh my god. What happened?"

 _ **"I happened."**_

Dean took the phone off his ear at the woman's voice and asked, "Who is that?" But before their was an answer he remembered the little gold signet ring he left on his brother's hand; just in case...

 _ **"It's Chelsea, Dean. I guess I called for help. Where are you?"**_

"I'm at the uh..." he looked at the sign behind him, "urgent care on fifty-four. Can you get here?"

 _ **"I...g-get him...no prob-"**_ The woman's voice came through the phone again; cutting in and out.

 _ **"Ask him...a-about...with Corbin."**_

"What about Corbin? Sammy?" The line cut out, leaving the older Winchester to just look at his cellphone and trust the witch to get his brother there. Not something he was feeling very good about.

* * *

"So you think this Corbin guy turned?"

"Yeah. I'm positive." Sam winced as Chelsea took a turn particularly hard in the Impala, the back of the car fishtailing a little.

"How far are we?" the woman asked.

"Five minutes."

Chelsea glanced in the rearview, "Three."

The younger Winchester held tight to the door panel and clutched his gut. The woman pushed the car almost to its fastest. The rear fishtailing again as the pulled into the parking lot. She turned to Sam who just thrusted a gun at her, "Go help my brother! I'm right behind you!"

An order.

She had all of a heartbeat to soak up her surroundings as she burst into the small hospital. An order given by the ring holder took over every part of her. Despite the crying blonde to her left, Chelsea did what she was told and saved Dean. The gunshot was loud but the woman's cries hurt her ears more.

"No! No!"

Sam rushing past her broke her weird haze and she dropped the gun, reaching down for the woman, "I'm sorry."

She clutched the witch, mostly unable to stand due to grief and shock. Down the hall Sam finally collapsed and Dean caught his breath. "Took you two long enough."

It was only after they were settled; Sam bandaged and the woman more or less ok to go her own way that Dean really took the time to address the witch.

"Thank you."

"Just doing what I was told."

"Sam told me what happened. He didn't call on you, you just showed up."

She shook her head, "I was answering a call for help. Seeing as you left him for dead."

He grabbed her upper arm, glancing both ways down the hall, "I thought he had already died."

"So what did you do when you got here?"

"What I thought it would take to bring him back." He let her go and started for the door.

"So leaving the ring on him? What was that?"

He stopped and looked over his shoulder, shaking his head and almost smirking, "Hoping you would work as advertised."

Chelsea shook her head as he left the hospital, "Asshole."

* * *

"I think she should come with us."

"Sam..."

"Cmon Dean. She saved my life. I probably could have fought those werewolves off. But my chances were slim."

"You can just call when you need her. Don't see why I should have to see her face at any point before then."

Sam just looked at his brother. Having a witch around seemed like a win to him. Especially if it was one he could more or less control and who couldn't die. And especially if she seemed more ok with the idea than the first time around, "She's sure this is her path now. If you're worried about trusting her."

"Trust isn't the problem Sam."

"Then what is it?"

"It's that were not a team. Not us and her, I mean." He sighed and opened the driver side door of the Impala, "Look, we get Cas back, we tackle Amara and life goes on. We don't really need-"

"More friends?" Sam finished for him.

"Something like that."

Sam got in after his brother and quietly buckled up. No point in pressing the issue. "Hey, you knew I wasn't dead. Right?"

Dean took a deep breath and nodded, starting the car, "Yeah. I knew that."

Visus redicem suam = Bend sight (used as a spell to "bend" reality around an object or person of choice to make it/them "invisible")


	5. Moving Day

**Chapter 5**

 **Moving Day**

 **A/N: Finally some reviews! I'm glad 90% of you are enjoying the ride. Got a review about Dean being OOC and something or other. We all know and love Dean to be easily flustered and irritated. Just an intense, attractive lil six foot plus lump. Ha! Thought about editing it...ended up just truncating part of the story. Doesn't warrant a re-read. Move along. I shall redeem myself with this nice, lighthearted chapter.**

* * *

"Hey Dean."

Dean hesitated in returning his little brother's greeting as he looked up from his coffee to see the younger Winchester toting that little black leather book, "C'mon Sam. Are you still on that thing?"

Sam dropped the book on the table, "Actually, I finished it last night."

"Good. Can we get back on Amara please?"

"You said we'd go through every book in the bunker looking for something that could help us beat Amara. That includes this one."

With a sigh the older brother put his coffee down and locked his hands over his stomach, leaning back in his chair, "So? What did you find?"

"That there are pages missing."

"And?"

Sam slid the book across the table, "Look at it! In-between entries there are blank pages. Sometimes three or four pages worth before there's an entry again." Dean flipped through the book and saw what his brother referred to. Sam pointed, "And at the end? Like twenty blank pages. Then it ends with a drawing."

Dean looked at the scribbled charcoal drawing, it was of a woman in a chair and even with a book in her face he could tell who it was, "Sam. Can you just get to the point?"

"I think the blank pages were spells."

The older brother perched an eyebrow up high, "This is a stretch, Sam."

"It's more than we've had so far. It's at least something to consider."

He wasn't wrong there. Having another book of spells in their arsenal was a plus. He stood, handing the book to his brother, "Call her."

"Hey Chelsea, could you come here please?"

Dean's face screwed up in confusion at the overly polite request, "Really? What happened to ordering her here?"

"Did no one inform you that women appreciate manners?" Chelsea crossed her arms and glared at the older Winchester. Next to her Sam sort of shrugged.

"How..?" Dean tried.

"I could feel his intention. He doesn't have to demand or order me to show up. Asking nicely works just fine. Now, what do you want?"

Sam grabbed the book off the table, "There are blank pages in this. I was hoping you knew how to recover them."

"Of course I know how. I did it."

"Why?"

She took the book from Sam and opened it to the back, "It was part of me covering up who he was. Making the book just look like his journal, not his grimoire. Leaving real spells in this before I left it to the museum didn't seem wise at the time."

The brothers watched her gaze at the drawing of herself before Dean spoke up, "So can you put them back?"

"Why? Nothing in there is going to stop god's sister, if you guys are still on that topic this week..."

Dean changed his stance in annoyance and pointed at the witch, "Of course we are! No one else is gonna stop her but us. Now fix the damn book!"

It was Chelsea's turn to raise an eyebrow and rather than come up with a retort she just looked at Sam, "Is he talking to me?"

"Sam." Dean pressed.

"Fix the book, please."

She snapped it closed with both hands and handed it to him, "Can I go now?"

Sam flipped through it, looking up when he noticed the twenty or so pages in the back still blank. "And these?"

Her gaze was firm, "The spells used to make me. And the one's that failed to fix me."

"You can go."

Dean made his way around the table as she disappeared, "What the hell was that?"

"Dean..."

"From where I'm standing being able to make an immortal puppet out of any witch is a win!"

Sam scoffed and looked at his brother in shock, "Do you hear yourself? Do you not remember her almost killing herself to not have to deal with us?"

That had honestly slipped the older Winchester's mind. He was so focused, so honed in on Amara that he actually had forgotten the sight of blood pouring out of the witch's mouth, nose, and green eyes. He closed his own eyes for a moment, trying to banish the image and sighed, "You're right. Sorry."

He attempted to recover and grabbed the book, "How about I look for something?"

"I got-"

"Sam," he interrupted his little brother, "I think this needs fresh eyes. I won't get lost in the fluffy bits like you will."

With a huff the younger walked over to a bookshelf and made a little collection of books he thought looked good. Both sat at the table and sort of paused for a moment of preparation before diving in. The piles of books were only getting higher and they weren't finding any answers.

* * *

"Hey, you hungry?" Sam set down the book he was reading and stretched. When he didn't get an answer he stood up and cleared his throat, "Dean?"

"Hm? No, I'm good."

Sam chuckled and put both hands on the table, "Uh Dean, I think you might be getting lost in the fluffy bits there buddy."

Dean shot his gaze over the top of the book, "Shut up."

"No judgement." he hovered for a second, ruminating in the sweetness of really sticking it to his big brother. But when he looked up to deliver, Dean's gaze was still on him, one eyebrow cocked up comically.

Dean reveled in his victory as his brother scurried off to the kitchen. But he had been right, Dean was completely lost in the fluffy bits. Nathaniel and Anna lived an interesting life. Parties, drugs, and magic. They'd lived all over the east coast and to be honest Dean was dying to know what she was up to in the almost two-hundred years Nathaniel wasn't around.

He tapped the back of the book with his fingers and hesitated in closing it.

"Hey Sam!" He shouted out to the kitchen.

He didn't get an answer until Sam returned to the room a minute later, "What?"

"There's nothing there man."

Sam chuckled, "Chelsea did kind of say that."

"Right..." Dean trailed off and just sort of fiddled with the book on the table.

Sam put his sandwich down, deciding against the first bite he so badly wanted, "You have questions? Something bothering you?"

"Just...aren't you dying to know what she's been up to for the last two-hundred years? I mean, the first hundred in here is...!"

"I know..."

"It's awesome!"

Sam's face contorted in confusion, "Awesome? Dean, did you just skip the first ten or so years of entries?"

"I mean besides Nathaniel being totally obsessed and possibly a diabolical murderer...and the whole slavery thing..."

The younger shook his head, "I get what you mean."

Dean clapped his hands together, "Right! So I vote you call her so we can see what she's been up to."

"I'm not doing that." Sam spoke around his mouthful of sandwich.

His brother took it from him and bit it, "C'mon Sam."

Sam reached for the sandwich but Dean pulled away, biting it again. He glared at his brother before saying, "She stays."

Dean narrowed his gaze as well, "In the storage room." He was of course referring to the dark cell like room behind it.

"In a room, Dean."

"Locked in."

"Free to roam the bunker."

The brothers stared at each other for a while longer. Dean broke the silence when he raised a finger in the air, "She can stay, with free reign of the bunker, if she cooks."

Sam snatched back the sandwich, "Fine. Hey Chelsea?"

When she appeared she was clearly annoyed. She spared Dean a somewhat comical yet disgusted glance then looked to Sam and said slowly, "What?"

Dean stood and puffed out his chest, "We're letting you stay."

She rolled her neck a little and closed her eyes, "Excuse me?"

Her tone made Sam stand up and move between the witch and his brother, "We thought it would be good to have you around. More eyes and hands searching for a way to beat Amara..."

"You two are a real indecisive pair huh?" they both looked confused so she continued, pointing at Sam, "You wanted me to leave originally. I'm guessing because you," she pointed to Dean, "must have wanted to lock me up." She moved to lean her butt on the edge of the table, littered with books, "You both have read at least some of that by now." she gestured to the black leather book inches away from her, "And you most likely want to know what I've been doing since Nathaniel died."

Dean came around the table to stand by his brother, "Are you staying or not?"

"Do you _really_ want me here or not?"

"I do." Sam answered.

"I know that." Chelsea glanced down at the ring when Sam seemed surprised to hear her say that. He closed his hand gently. "I'm talking about your brother."

Dean rolled his eyes, "Look, you're the one that doesn't trust me."

"Ah ah." she held up a finger, "I said I didn't _like_ you. I've been around for a long time, I think I know trustworthy people when I come across them."

The brother's faces were painted with confusion so Chelsea sighed, pulling out a chair and sitting down, "If you wanted to abuse that ring you would have by now. I'd be scrubbing floors, cooking, and possibly having sex with one or both of you."

They avoided eye-contact at that. Fighting a grin Dean raised his hand, "Dean!" Sam snapped. He put his hand down.

"How did you know you could trust us?"

"Among other things, you rushing to my side to get the ring out of my hand when you saw what it was doing to me..." she rolled her eyes in Dean's direction, "And this one killing me to stop the process of me actually dying...if it even works that way."

"So you weren't even sure?"

"I was sure it was painful, the most pain I've experienced in two hundred and sixty-something years so the odds seemed good."

Dean sort of chuckled while Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. Chelsea shrugged and tipped the chair back on two legs, looking at the ceiling, "The real question is do _I_ want to stay here."

She sighed, "Men of letters stripped witches of most of their magic. _But_ i've managed to work alongside hunters before; depending on which you guys consider yourselves."

"A healthy helping of both." Dean answered. "Now either you choose to stay, or Sam can make you."

"Dean-"

Chelsea held up her hand, "I choose to, thank you, Sam." she put the chair down on all fours and stood, "So was I right? You just want to know what I've been doing?"

Dean smirked, "I don't answer two part questions."

Her eyes widened up and she raised her hands in a chocking gesture. Sam shook his head as he grabbed his sandwich and a book and headed off to his room. "Play nice."


	6. In For It (The Long Haul)

**Chapter 6**

 **In For It (The Long Haul)**

 **A/N: Bit of a lengthy one. I fudge episode details to help everything be less wordy when it's read. Just small stuff, I promise.**

* * *

"Last one." Sam put down the unlabeled cardboard box and looked around the room.

Chelsea was still putting things on shelves and glanced over, "Thanks for letting me go get some things."

"It's no problem. Not like you wouldn't come back." He joked.

"I definitely thought about it."

It wasn't worth the energy for her to conjure her belongings. The magic involved was trickier than one would think and she wanted the time to think. So the witch magicked herself to Maryland; Baltimore specifically. Then packed up a pickup and drove the twenty hours back to Lebanon, Kansas and the Winchesters. Any attempt to run would have just resulted in being pulled back by the ring. So it was a fleeting thought.

"Is this all your things?" Sam asked. He was determined to not make her feel like a prisoner.

"Just the important stuff. I have things tucked away all over the world."

"Really?" He wandered over to an open box of records and started unpacking them. Setting them up next to the turntable she'd already setup. "Where? If you don't mind me asking."

"I moved back to New York after Nathaniel died. Then I sort of backtracked his steps. He was English, actually, so after a few years of the island I moved to London." She sighed heavily, "I learned things about him I don't think I wanted to know. Things about his family, but just like him they were kind; they missed him. I poked around China for a while but I got tired of standing out so Paris was next. I learned different magic from French gypsy families and I managed to hide away with them for a while." She smiled fondly, "Paris was my favorite."

"How long did you stay?"

"Until about 1820 or so. I went back to London, to give it another try. I wanted to see how his family was doing. They no longer practiced magic when I saw them again. But I went to the first World Fair."

Sam was impressed, "That must have been amazing."

"It was. It inspired me to see more places. At least what I could." she shook her head and placed some crystals on the shelf above her bed, "Being a person of color, especially a woman, was still a roadblock in so many places. It wasn't as angry as America, but it was there. I heard about people finally trying to settle the west and how free it was, so I decided to go home, as it were."

The Winchester chuckled, "You did the Wild West thing?"

"I sure did."

He smiled, "Dean would love that."

Chelsea found herself smiling with him, "Really?"

"Yeah. A few years ago we traveled back in time to find a Phoenix."

She stopped arranging the crystals, "Are you serious?"

Another chuckle, "As death."

This time Chelsea chuckled, "Well..."

"Yeah." He joined her laughing, "We've died quite a few times as well."

"A life with magic means death is never really permanent."

Sam nodded in agreement then there was a knock on the door, "Having fun?"

Dean lent into the room and looked around. Plants, crystals, and intricately painted sigils on parchment made the room look pretty dreamy compared to the boy's rather bland rooms.

"Just unpacking for my newest lifetime."

"What's up?" The younger Winchester asked his brother.

"Crowley wants to see us." He looked over at a Chelsea, "We'll fill you in on the way."

* * *

"Wait a minute." Chelsea lent up into the front seat, between the brothers, "We're going to meet the king of hell to discuss a possible hand of god in order to use it to defeat god's sister?"

"Yes."

"But he was, until now, under the devil's thumb?" she was confused, "I thought the devil ran hell anyway."

The brothers looked at each other and Sam followed up with, "Lucifer was locked in a cage. Apparently hell was just running on chaos for a while; until Crowley took over."

"Ok, so how did he get out?"

Again the brothers shared a look and Chelsea almost lurched into the front seat, "You two let him out!"

"How did you not know what was going down?"

Chelsea sat back in her seat and looked out the window, "Sans your occasional stray monster, I make it my business to stay out of the magic world."

"Why?"

She chuckled a little, as if the answer was obvious, "It's messy."

Dean nodded, "Can't argue with that."

He pulled the car between two buildings and turned fully to the backseat. "You ready?"

The witch looked around the back seat, "Me? Do I not look ready?"

"Very funny."

"Seriously." Sam turned around too, "We're glad you're ok with helping us here, but..."

"I could die?" she tried, "Been there done that. My best case scenario is the world ends and I finally die for real."

"And your worst case?" The younger tried.

She shrugged and slid over to get out, "Don't think I have one."

The brothers stayed in the car for a moment and Dean asked, "Do you think she's just doing this because she's bored?"

"Most likely."

* * *

"Nice digs." Dean spoke aloud as the group moved into an area clear of dripping pipes, "Is the crypt keeper out of town?"

Crowley was much less imposing than Chelsea was expecting. Especially since the hunters insisted she stay behind them both like she wasn't the most powerful of the three of them. He turned to them and scowled, "I'm lucky to be alive. Lucifer had me trussed up like a dog in my own palace."

"Palace?" Dean asked before following up, "Oh, you mean the abandoned nuthouse."

Chelsea snorted a little.

"He kept me in a kennel!" he raised his voice a little and narrowed his gaze at the witch.

Her snort devolved into a chuckle as both Sam and Dean looked at each other and broke into smiles. He went on to say something about having his demons turned against him and the chuckling was full on giggles when he asked, "Who the hell are you? The girlfriend?"

"I guess I'm a bit of a pet myself." Chelsea shrugged, "Like a house cat...er...bunker cat?"

Sam shook his head and tried not to grin. The demon's eyes narrowed even further, "Witch."

The brothers instinctively stepped closer to each other, shielding her. "What's it matter?" Dean asked.

Crowley ran his eyes over the men until he smirked, "It matters a lot if that's what I think it is." He pointed to Sam's hand.

"Try me, demon."

The brothers looked behind them in confusion before Dean sprung forward and grabbed Chelsea's upper arm. The grip was tight but not so much as to cause her harm, "Cut it out. Sam?"

"Come here." He left off the 'please' that came naturally to him in case she wouldn't obey.

The older brother let her go as she moved to the younger who pointed to the spot behind him like an annoyed parent.

Crowley was impressed, "Well that's interesting. And here I thought those were just stories."

"Get to the point." Dean barked.

The king held up his hands in a soft surrender, "To business then."

Sam glanced back at Chelsea. She stood with her back to the conversation. Pouting more or less. He felt bad about ordering her when clearly standing up for herself was natural. Two hundred odd years of being free, and now, not so much.

"Well?" The older brother pushed again.

Crowley's gaze lingered on the witch for another moment before he stood tall and said, "I have the Horn of Joshua."

"Joshua. As in the Joshua who won the battle of Jericho?"

"And I'm willing to entrust it to your capable hands." Crowley continued, ignoring the question as Sam obviously knew the answer. The brothers just stared at him, "What? I just said I'd give you the thing."

"If?" They asked together.

"Is this how you say thank you?"

"With you there's always an if."

"Fine. I will give you the horn if you help me exercise Lucifer from Castiel's vessel then return him _immediately_ to the cage."

That was a name Chelsea hadn't heard yet. She turned to question the brothers but neither of them paid her any mind.

Sam raised a brow, "So that's all huh?"

"Where is this horn?" Dean asked.

"Hidden, naturally."

Neither Winchester seemed surprised.

"Crowley, even if we could exercise Lucifer out of Cass, the cage is basically impenetrable. It took a spell from the book of the damned to spring Lucifer in the first place and Rowena hid the book. We'd need them both."

"I didn't say it would be easy."

Chelsea was getting more information now than during the Winchester's little wrap up in the car. When exactly were they planning to tell her anything about whoever this Castiel was or that they'd found and apparently used the book of the damned?

"Do you know where Rowena is?"

"Lucifer snapped her neck." Crowley sounded unbothered as he told them this.

Dean waved a hand back at Chelsea, "Well, we have a witch."

"You can't just volunteer me for that!"

"Chelsea..."

"No! I'm not touching that book! And when exactly was I supposed to know that you not only know about it but that you've fucking used it? And who the hell is this Castiel?"

Sam tried again to calm her down, "Look, we didn't know this was going to come up."

"The hell you didn't."

"Sam," Dean started, "We don't have time for this."

"The hell you don't!"

"You _literally_ just said you didn't have a worst case scenario with this."

"Well now I do. _If_ I ever get the chance to really die I'd like to not spend eternity in hell."

The older Winchester looked confused for a moment and she elaborated, "It's in the god damned name!" she said, referring to the book, "No!"

"We can always just make you." Dean offered.

"Sam?" She asked exasperatedly, hoping he would be against forcing her to do something she was so clearly against.

"Are you two done arguing with your girlfriend?"

"Shut up!" Was the trio's collective reply.

"I'm sorry Chelsea, but if we need a spell from the book, you're all the witch we've got."

"I don't believe this. All I want is to die. I agreed to help with the option of _that_ or saving the world. Not spending forever in hell."

"Sam, we _really_ don't have time for this." Dean didn't even bother addressing her concerns and instead looked to his brother to shut her up.

"Chelsea, we can discuss this later."

"The fuck-"

"Quiet." The younger Winchester firmly ordered her silence, cutting her off, and she obeyed. Her glare exuded betrayal and she seemed to suck in a breath and hold it in her chest, balling up her fists.

Dean was satisfied and gave his attention back to Crowley, "We will put Lucifer back in the cage _after_ we put Amara on ice. It _has_ to happen in that order."

Crowley's brow furrowed even further, "He's spent years ruminating in anger at us!"

"The thing is, we may need him."

"He might be the only one powerful enough to use the horn against her."

Crowley really didn't care, "He had me cleaning the floors with my tongue! He called me 'puppy'! He made me beg!"

The Hunters and the witch just looked at each other. Being unable to speak still Chelsea just sort of shrugged and Sam crossed his arms. Dean moved closer to the demon in two strides, clapping to get his undivided attention, "Ok, cmon. Is that what this is about? Huh? Your stupid ego? The fact that he dissed you in front of a bunch of stupid demons? You're smarter than this!"

"Dean's right." Sam chimed in, "Priority is to put the horn in Lucifer's hands then set him loose on Amara."

"After we exercise Lucifer out of Cass and find him a new vessel."

The brotherly camaraderie instantly faded as Sam questioned, "What? Really?"

The older brother was shocked by the younger's confusion and tuned to him, "Yes, really. We're not sending Lucifer into battle inside Cass. What of he doesn't make it?"

Sensing another argument coming on Crowley turned and started pacing. Chelsea however was now very into who the hell this Castiel guy was. He was clearly important to them.

"That's a powerful vessel, Dean. It's held Cass for years. I'm guessing it can hold Lucifer."

Dean didn't like that word, "It? It's not an 'it', Sam. It's Cass."

"And Cass _wanted_ to do this."

"Well there's times I want to get slapped during sex by a girl wearing a Zorro mask. That don't make it a good idea."

Despite her anger Chelsea grinned, hiding it behind her hand and feeling oddly grateful she'd been ordered into silence or she might have snorted.

Sam didn't really find it funny, "Dean, this is exactly how we screw ourselves. We make the heart choice instead of the smart choice."

"Ok, thank you Dr. Phil. Cass is family."

"He is! So his choice deserves to be respected."

"Even if it kills him?"

"It's killing me!" Crowley finally blew his stack. "You heard the terms of my deal. If Lucifer is not back in the cage, the horn stays hidden!"

The tension in the room dissipated as a rumbling shook the warehouse. "What the hell was that?"

Chelsea hit Sam on the arm and gestured to her face.

"Not yet." was his answer to giving he back her voice before he moved for the exit, his brother behind him.

The four of them emptied out into a lot and their eyes trained to the sky. It was a deep menacing darkness and lights cracked the clouds that rolled in no particular direction. Chelsea hit Sam again, he didn't look down at her and instead went with, "Yeah, go ahead."

"What's happening?" She was actually a little scared and for the moment decided she could table her earlier concerns. This was not a normal storm.

"I think that's her."

"The big her? God's sister?"

"Yeah." Sam affirmed.

"What the fuck did I sign on to?"

* * *

"Well we all just saw what happens when she's in a bad mood, which apparently she's been in since the dawn of time." Sam said as the four of them returned inside.

"And why exactly is she in a bad mood?" Chelsea was freaking out, clearly realizing that hearing 'god's sister' and witnessing the actual power were two completely different things.

Dean looked back at her and she had both hands in her curls, her green eyes wide, "Do you really need to know?"

"Oh we'll just add it to the list of shit you 'forgot' to tell me and that I demand to know later." the witch snapped. She paced as the brothers exchanged a glance and Crowley spoke.

"Lucifer has to go back in the cage."

"Yes." Dean agreed, "But when it makes sense. Amara is the big picture and in order to take her out, Lucifer has got to have the Horn of Joshua. Her then him."

"Your scenario only works if you posses the horn, which you do not."

"No, we don't! But you do so…" Sam left his obvious intention hanging to which the king replied.

"Exactly! _I_ do! So this isn't a negotiation. I have the high cards and you have…" he gestured around and landed on Chelsea, "A witch you can boss around! So basically nothing!"

A gust threw dust up and chucked the demon several feet. "Chelsea!" Sam scolded her as the demon stood and dusted himself off.

"My offer still stands." he said, adjusting his coat.

Dean walked over to him, "When we sprung Lucifer we had Rowena and the Book of the Damned. Both of which we need to put him back in the cage." he glanced back at Chelsea who was still huffing, "And both of which are gone."

Chelsea was sort of reveling in the fact that she was pretty sure Dean had just decided to not make her use that book but it was cut short by Sam saying something behind her. "Guys. Look at this."

It was a message, and lo and behold, the witch was the only one confused, "Who the hell is Fergus?"


	7. The Long Haul Part 2

**Chapter 7**

 **The Long Haul Part 2**

 **A/N: Double uploads are rare and only happen when one chapter is too long. You're still welcome...**

* * *

"What the hell did I sign up for?"

The brothers looked at each other before Dean eyed Chelsea from the rearview mirror, "We told you she was God's sister."

"But that was…"

"Are you backing out?" he asked.

She looked between the two and decided on, "Not if you reinstall my trust in you by telling me _everything._ You clearly left some things out. Like that book…"

"Which you don't have to use." Dean reminded her.

She sighed and nodded solemnly, "Thank you for that." She was aware it was only because this other witch wasn't dead…but still.

"Yeah."

Sam turned to her, "We didn't leave anything out on purpose ok? We're sorry." Dean glanced over and Sam hit his arm lightly, "Aren't we Dean?"

"Mm hm, sorry."

Chelsea rolled her eyes, "Who is Castiel? Besides obviously important to both of you."

"He's an angel."

She blinked at the younger Winchester, "An angel?"

"Yes."

"This really shouldn't be hard to believe considering I just met the the king of hell and witnessed a sliver of, basically, god's wrath."

"His sister." Sam corrected.

"Same difference." she offered.

"You can't die though so how is anything shocking to you?"

She shrugged, "Like I said, besides your average stray monster I stay out of the mess. And I'm obviously not a christian…"

"But you're afraid of going to hell?"

"Heaven and hell aren't necessarily strictly a christian construct. The idea of the two with different names and factors exist everywhere. But, given that I knew they were real, I should have suspected angels and shit. God having a sister is really the only curveball here."

"That one was pretty new for everyone."

"So, Castiel, how did he come along?"

Dean turned the car onto a dirt road and opted out of answering. Sam sighed, "He pulled Dean out of hell."

The older Winchester sensed the eyes on the back of his head and spared her a glance, "He _is_ important to us. He's family."

She nodded, "Got it. So why is the devil in him?"

Again, Dean didn't answer. Instead guiding the car to its destination; a small abandoned church. Sam turned to her when the car stopped, "To keep him out of me."

* * *

"You."

"Oh my, you're still alive."

Chelsea shrugged, "I can't die."

"So the rumors were true."

Sam and Dean paused with boxes of altar effects, salt and spray paint in their arms, "You two know each other?" the younger asked.

"She was one of the few real witches at Nathaniel's parties. I'd forgotten her name." she really had. She just sort of receded into Chelsea's memory as the obnoxious redhead.

Rowena feigned offense at that and quipped back, "Where would your master be?"

"Rotted in the ground as of June, 1800."

"Well dear. He must have left you quite a bit as I heard you were knee deep in expensive parties in Paris around that time."

"Drowning my sorrows in absinthe and opium." Chelsea confirmed, "You however, just dropped off the planet. Having trouble getting people to care for your brand of magic I see."

"He cared."

The "younger" witch took a deep breath and Sam sort of rushed over, handing her a can of red spray paint and a piece of paper, "Put this there." he pointed to the middle of the room. She obeyed, of course, and the hunter threw the other witch a glare. To which she answered by grinning and wagging her fingers at him.

Dean joined his side, "I hate this."

"Me too. The world of magic is too small." Sam looked around the church, "Where the hell is Crowley?"

"Right? He's the one that made us do this you'd think he'd have the decency to-"

"Show up?" Crowley offered, cutting the hunter off. "He does." He walked around the demon trap Chelsea was still putting the last touches on, "Because without the bait, a trap really isn't a trap, is it?"

He placed the cloth in his hand down on a bench that wasn't completely rotted out and Sam gestured to it, "Is that the horn?"

"It is. First impressions can be deceiving, Moose."

"We still think this is a bad idea." Dean told the demon.

"I'm aware." was his reply, "So I'll be standing right here in case you muck it up."

"Yeah yeah."

Chelsea tossed the spray can to Sam, "Done. Anymore orders?"

Sam sort of shrugged and Dean cleared his throat, "Stay out of the way."

She held up her hands, "Whatever. Don't have to order me to do that."

"Look, he just wants to get Cass back safely."

"Right. And the witch you essentially forced into helping isn't useful enough, so as long as she stays out of the way."

"It's not like that."

"I don't really care. I'm just wondering what I'm still doing around. Given your precious devil ridden angel even shows."

She'd said the last part loud enough for Dean to hear and he struck a match before saying, "Oh he'll show. We have what he needs to do what he wants; take Amara out."

He threw the match into a bowl prepared with a summoning spell mix and launched into a string of latin. Chelsea looked back to gauge Rowena's expression but she had hidden behind a wall. She nudged Sam who took notice also. He leaned down to her, "Just be careful."

She nudged him, "Thanks. But I can't die. No real need to worry."

Dean finished and ended his spell with, "I summon you to make an offer. The weapon by which its bearer can crush the darkness forever."

The witch couldn't help but think the thunder was cliche as hell and once again she was faced with a much smaller than life man than the one she was envisioning. They spoke of Castiel so highly and of the devil with just enough fear and loathing. She fought the urge to ask, Really? This is him?

"Sam, now!"

Sam tossed a match at the sigil on the floor and the holy oil around it lit up in flames. Lucifer crossed his arms and eyed the flames, "I'm sorry. But your prayer implied that I'd be…joining the team, but I'm just not feeling the warm and fuzzies here."

There it was, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up as he spoke.

His eyes moved around the room for moment before they landed on the wrapped horn on the bench. "Wow, there it is. Powdered up by dad himself. Now that bad boy plus me aught to take her out. Let's get to it."

He clapped and rubbed his hands together but, per plan, no one moved. Lucifer looked over the room again before saying, "Douse the flames." and waiting several heartbeats of more silence before continuing with, "Or don't?"

Dean sprang into action just then, cutting his palm and slamming it onto a sigil nearby. The one under Lucifer's feet glowed and sent him into mild convulsions. "Cass?" the older Winchester called out, "Castiel, show yourself!"

For all of a moment the man's demeanor changed completely. He looked up, locked eyes with the hunter, and asked, "Dean? What's going on?"

Dean tried to get him in on the plan, to expel Lucifer, but the spell didn't last long enough and Lucifer came out mocking them. "Whoo! You boys almost had me there for a minute, but these mail-order spells..."

Chelsea started to wonder if every plan these guys came up with backfired like this.

"Cass, expel hm!"

She knew he wouldn't get through and so did the devil. He sort of smirked and shrugged, "I think he's happy with the arrangement. He did invite me in. Now, just give me the weapon. Or we can wait for this warding to fail and I'll just take it."

The sigil beneath his feet started to lose power and Chelsea found herself eyeing the horn. Making sure he didn't get it was maybe the next best step. A commotion behind her and Sam broke her thought process and she watched as red smoke left the demon king and entered the angel who immediately went limp where he stood, head rolling to one side.

"I vote I get that thing out of here." she offered.

"No."

"No?"

"Dean, it sounds like a good plan to me." Sam offered.

"I said no!" He narrowed his gaze at the witch and his brother, "It and everyone stays here."

"Speak for yourself." Rowena came from her hiding place. Just enough to be seen but not so much that she couldn't duck and cover if necessary.

"Look. Crowley is in there talking to Cass, we need to stay put in case this works."

"Your precious angel could fuck this up for all of us. I can quite literally teleport! I should take that thing and leave."

Neither hunter had a comeback for that because she was actually right. After a heartbeat or two Dean had made up his mind, "We wait."

Chelsea threw her hands up and paced. "We're wasting time! The warding is beginning to fail!" Rowena shouted over to them, pointing to where 'Lucifer' stood.

The flames around the angel were dying down as he slightly convulsed in place. "He's definitely getting his ass kicked in there."

A sizzling sound made them turn to the demon kings empty vessel. Along the forehead appeared a painful looking "Help me."

Sam picked up a cross and launched into rapid-fire latin while Dean grabbed a bottle of holy water. Chelsea just eyed the horn. She could take it right now and leave, sit in the bunker with it until Sam called her back or they came to her.

It seemed to be a pretty important piece. It seemed like it was their only chance.

She heard the commotion of Crowley re-entering his body and telling the brothers, "Useless."

"Lads, the fire!" Rowena scurried back to her hiding place as the fire died out.

Lucifer opened his eyes, grinning at the room as a whole and shrugging, "You lied to me." he sort of whined, obviously being obnoxious. "I could have been your warrior." he waved a hand dismissively, "Meh. Who needs ya?"

The brothers looked at each other but Chelsea made a move before Sam could even get her name out. Both horn and cloth landed in her hands but when she tried to make any further movement she was stuck in place.

"And who would this be?" he looked to the Winchesters, "New pet?"

Her head snapped to one side and she hit the floor. The horn never landing as Lucifer brought it into his own grasp. Sam made a move for the obviously dead witch but instead was dropped onto the bench behind him; the same happening to Dean.

"Well." Crowley knew when he was done and disappeared, much to Lucifer's entertainment.

"It's just like Crowley to leave right when the party's getting started." He walked over to where the two brothers were pinned, "As much as I get a kick out of you two, there come's a time when every relationship has run it's course. So..."

Both boys grunted as their insides started to boil. The pain so severe they couldn't even properly scream. But as horrible as it was, it was short-lived as the doors to church exploded.

Dean Winchester didn't _like_ this feeling. His chest clenching up as though his childhood crush had just entered the room. But it was the overwhelming feeling that fell upon him whenever Amara was near. Her focus was on Lucifer, of course, as she greeted him as "Nephew". Despite wanting to look around the room he couldn't peel his eyes away; especially as she looked at him. His face portraying his confusion and fear; how did she know where they were?

"I was tracking _her_ when she left my side." she nodded her head in the direction of Rowena's hiding place.

That explained it.

Lucifer bit his bottom lip, an odd expression on Castiel's face. "You were safely sealed away." he finally said, "You're going to wish you stayed there."

This was it. This was their big try at getting Amara. The horn glowed in Lucifer's hand before the energy passed into him. He held out a hand towards Amara and she raised her arms, opening herself up to be attacked. It was a glorious show of light and rushing air. But unfortunately that was the peak.

Just as the power faded and Lucifer lowered his arm, Chelsea's neck came together. The disbelief was a haze but her gasping for air pulled Sam's attention, "Chelsea. Hey!"

Dean spared only a glance at the witch and his brother before watching Amara pull Lucifer closer. The horn, used and pale, clattered on the ground.

"I think you and I need to have a nice, long chat." she said to him.

It was a fear Dean thought he was prepared for. Amara getting her hands on Castiel and obviously having a better idea than just killing him, "Cass?"

The pain in his voice made Amara feel almost sorry for him. She released both brothers from their seats and where Sam fell to the witch's side, Dean just stared blankly.

After they disappeared in a flash of light, Chelsea released the grip she'd had on Sam's jacket while he shielded her from the flash. "Was that?"

"Yeah. That was her."

* * *

"So we're back to square one?"

"Yep."

"Well that sucks." The brothers looked up at Chelsea when she joined them. Sam handed her the beer he'd already opened and grabbed another one.

"You did good." he praised her.

"I don't know about that. I should have taken the horn out of there sooner."

Dean sipped his beer, "You alright?"

She shrugged, "I've died in worse ways. It's more the whole vibe of how it went down that rattled me. I can't believe it didn't work." she tousled her curls and sat on the edge of the back-lit table, "What about your angel friend?"

The older brother sighed, "I don't know."

"Look," Sam started, "I know I came down on the side of wanting Cass to deal with Amara., so-"

"But thats what he wanted, right?" Dean cut him off. "Don't feel sorry for him, Chelsea."

She looked at Sam who could only look down as Dean continued, "We promised not to get in the way of what one person chooses, even if we disagree."

"We did say that." Sam eased into a chair and Chelsea turned so she could see them both, crossing her legs. "So that's our policy." he finished.

"Which sound's damn good."

They fell silent and Chelsea took a sip of beer before putting it in front of her and leaning back on her hands, "We're still going to save him, right?"

Dean nodded before looking across at his brother then to her, "Yeah. Let's find that idiot and bring him home."

The older brother sipped his beer quietly while Chelsea looked over at Sam, sensing something. "Thank you." he mouthed.

She shrugged and smiled a little, reaching for her bottle and tapping his in a toast. A silent, "No problem."


	8. Weird Shit

**Chapter 8**

 **Weird Shit**

 **A/N: WHY ARE MY CHAPTERS GETTING SO LONG! At this rate everything is going to be two parts. Whyyyyyy.**

* * *

Sam stopped for a brief moment as he noticed Chelsea standing in the kitchen with a coffee mug. She was bent over the counter where the pot was, fully clothed in light denim and a white t-shirt, staring into her cup while a spoon just stirred on its own.

"Good morning. Do you always get up this early?"

She didn't look at him, "I got up when you got up."

He was confused, "Did...did I wake you?"

The witch stood straight, the Winchester noticing that her white shirt barely covered her navel. She picked up the mug and removed the spoon. She pointed to Sam's right hand, "That did."

"Oh. I didn't know it worked like that."

She nodded as she crossed the kitchen, sitting on a stool, "Yeah. It's subtle at first, then it gets worse."

"Worse?"

"I can practically read your mind after a while." she broke into a huge grin as he started to look worried. "Don't panic. I'll tune you out best I can."

He smiled a little as he moved about collecting a bowl and spoon. Chelsea watched him until she felt she couldn't keep the question to herself, "What's with your brother and Amara?"

"Um, well..."

She sipped the coffee, "Long story?"

"Sort of."

"I'm listening."

Sam looked over at her, meeting her gaze. She was serious. "Is this on the list of things you demand to know?"

"It's at the top, Sam."

"Why?"

"Because if he's in love with her, what does that mean for stopping her?"

Love? No way. "I'm not sure what you thought you saw."

"I know exactly what I saw." another sip, "Just before you covered me; the way they looked at each other. What's the story there?"

Sam sighed and put his bowl down, going over to sit next to her, "Dean took on a burden so he could save the world."

"And that burden was linked to her how?"

"It _was_ her. The Mark of Cain." the witch's eyes widened but Sam pushed forward with the story. "Dean took the mark from Cain...and I got it off him."

"Using the book of the damned." it only made sense that the ultimate book of curses was the only thing to free him from the ultimate curse, "Hence the whole decisions thing you guys were talking about."

"Yeah."

"So it's like this." she grabbed his wrist, lifting to show him the gold ring on his pointer finger which glinted a little, "They were tied together. She's been in his head."

Sam got a little lost in her intense gaze for a moment before agreeing and gently pulling his wrist free, "Yeah."

"Well," just like that the moment ended and she handed him his bowl. Complete with cereal, milk and spoon; she huffed before continuing, "I guess that's all I wanted. Confirmation."

"He'll be ok."

"I don't think I'm the one who needs to be reassured." she picked up her coffee and moved to leave the kitchen. Sam caught on and stood also, walking out ahead of her so she could follow him to the library area where they found Dean with his nose in a book.

"Dude, you even move since last night?"

"Sleeping is the new smoking." Dean answered his brother.

Chelsea pat his back as she crossed behind him, "It's sitting, sitting is the new smoking."

His face scrunched up as he looked at her, "That can't be right."

She rolled her eyes and wandered off to the end of the table, "Jeez."

Sam chuckled and started on his cereal, "We'll find Cass, ok?"

"We gambled with him and now Amara has him." Dean's voice was low as he spoke.

"I think we all know she's not going to kill him." the witch sipped her coffee, "You heard her; a nice long chat."

"She wants to hurt Lucifer and if it means killing Cass, she will."

Chelsea put her nose in her cup at that, he would know. Dean stood and sort of stalked off.

Sam called after him, "So we get back out there. We get back to work. We'll catch a break on Cass. We have to, it's karma."

"Karma's been kicking us in the teeth lately."

"So let's kick it back." The younger Winchester picked up his laptop and opened it, placing it where Dean had been sitting.

Chelsea crossed to their end of the table and lent of the older brother so she could see as Sam started explaining. "Libby Strauss went missing near Gunnison, Colorado. Libby's friend claims she was carried off by a mutant creature with green eyes."

"Demon?"

"With green eyes?" the witch answered.

"Well, I thought demon too." Sam continued, "The friend chased after them and found Libby, except it wasn't Libby anymore, because now she was a green-eyed mutant too."

Chelsea stood up and crossed her arms, "So the world is ending but the weird shit doesn't take a break?"

Dean sighed, "Unfortunately not. Let's check it out."

* * *

Chelsea Commons was bored out of her mind. It was already bad enough the boys made her dress like this. She idly tugged at the black pencil skirt and yanked at the white dress shirt. The blazer was too hot and her stockings were riding up. The only part she liked were the shoes but four inch pumps weren't exactly functional.

She fidgeted in her standing position between the two brother's and tried not to be too distracting. It wasn't working as the Gunnison Sheriff kept eyeing her as she moved about. Dean kept side-eyeing her and finally Sam stood and grabbed her arm, "Excuse me."

"What's the problem?" he asked her once he pulled her to the side.

"I'm just uncomfortable. I couldn't stay in the car?" she whined.

"I thought you would want to know about the case."

"Not really, just point me to the monster."

"Chelsea..."

"I feel ridiculous in this outfit."

Despite the fact that she didn't _look_ ridiculous. Her curls were piled atop her head and her shirt was unbuttoned. She was giving off very distracting 'hot teacher' vibes.

"You look fine."

She narrowed her gaze at him, slightly sensing something, "Thank you."

"But stop fidgeting and pay attention."

She felt that tingly feeling in her spine and bit back a cocky "yes sir". She followed him back to the Sheriff's desk where Sam and Dean shared a look. "I'm sorry." she apologized and the Sheriff continued.

"We have six missing, all within the last forty-eight hours."

"Let's start with Libby Strauss. I understand she was from out of town?"

"She and a friend were visiting from Tucson. Libby was the first reported missing."

"But all the rest have been local?" Dean asked.

"All residents."

"Any leads?"

"The only eyewitness I have is the friend. Not the most reliable witness."

Dean was confused, "Why is that?"

"She and Libby were on the last legs of their cannabis tasting tour. Fumes still coming off her when I questioned her."

Sam shook his head, "Have you had anything odd like this happen before?"

The Sheriff took a deep breath and pushed back from her desk. Coming around it to be closer to the three and speak a little lower, "Twenty-seven years ago about a dozen residents went missing. Twenty-seven years before that, eight."

"All in the same time frame?"

She nodded, "Same time of year too."

Chelsea spoke up, "I saw a plaque coming in that said this town was founded in the fifties. So this has been happening since then?"

"Yeah. The eight missing fifty-four years ago are the earliest on record."

"How were these missing explained?"

"They weren't." the Sheriff shrugged, "People come and go in this town. I've only been here two years myself. People have their theories."

"And yours is?"

"People get bored. They leave, a little at first, then people get encouraged and it's all at once."

The trio wasn't buying it, "Every twenty-seven years like clockwork?"

"Honestly, I'm just focused on the missing I have right now. You're welcome to the files and witnesses, I have a panicked town I need to talk down."

The men stood and turned so that they and the witch were almost in a huddle. "I'll check the reports." Sam offered.

"That'll be faster with another set of eyes." Chelsea pat Dean on the arm as she and Sam left him standing at the Sheriff's desk.

Sam held the door open for Chelsea and questioned her as she entered the conference room, "You really want to go through paperwork?"

"No. But it doesn't take two people to talk to a witness."

The hunter chuckled, "You really don't like my brother do you?"

"Id rather hang out with you than him, yes."

Sam continued to grin as he opened the box of files, "But we're not hanging out, we're working a case."

She shrugged, "Same difference."

"So what is it about him that you don't like?"

The witch could tell he was amused and decided to humor him, "He reminds me of someone I used to know. Controlling, center of attention, brash..." she drifted off as she took a few files from the box. "History repeats itself and I don't want another man like that in my life."

Sam opened his laptop, "Nathaniel?"

She didn't look up from the file, "No."

"You going to tell me who?"

"Nope."

"Dean's not all bad."

"He isn't _bad_ at all." she glanced up, "He's amusing at least and watching the two of you tells me he's a good big brother."

"But?"

"But nothing. I just don't want him to have that." she pointed to her ring.

"Is this about that whole connection thing we talked about? Did someone have the ring after Nathaniel?"

"You know Sam, seeing as god's sister is loose and angry and there are green-eyed body snatchers running around, this may not be a helpful topic."

She was right. But her avoidance of the questions answered them. He returned to the job at hand and the room fell into silence.

Dean opening the door a little while later made them both jump and he chuckled, "Look at you guys. Regular couple of bookworms."

"What did you get?" the younger asked.

"She claims that when she caught up to Libby she was shaking and buzzing. Same sound, she says, from just before the thing jumped them."

"And the thing?" Chelsea asked.

"Pale, green eyes, also buzzing and junkless."

"You mean sexless?" she corrected him.

Dean sort of shrugged and nodded, "Junkless, yeah."

She rolled her eyes, "Ok. That doesn't sound like weed to me."

"Doesn't to me either." the older brother chuckled, "Does it Sam?"

"Dude I was eighteen."

"Sinner."

"It was college. It was probably oregano anyways."

Chelsea covered her mouth as she laughed, "You really are a good boy, huh Sam?"

He blushed slightly and Dean waggled his brows at her, "What about you?"

She was still amused, "I've lived through every major drug moment in history." she said fondly, "Weed is my favorite, only second to opium."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

He nodded as Sam leant back in his chair, "We've got nothing on the case. Nothing about green eyes, or buzzing, or shaking."

"So we think Junkless turned Libby?"

Chelsea purposely reached between the brothers to put a file back in the box, "We aren't seriously calling it that are we?"

Dean shrugged, "Eh."

"Oh god..." she handed him a paper off the desk, "In other case related news, I found the name of the sheriff from eighty-nine and some of his case notes. Still no mention of a _sexless_ creature with green eyes."

Sam followed up with, "But he seemed to be closing in on the missing. Then, his notes just stop."

"He die?"

"Nope. He remained sheriff for a few more months then resigned and fell off the grid." he did some shuffling, "I had Chelsea ask around the office and no one knows anything."

"But." Chelsea had clearly been waiting for her big reveal as she held up a paper she literally pulled from thin air, "I found someone connected to the case who still lives in town. Etta Fraser."

The brothers looked at each other as Dean took the paper. Sam just shrugged as if to say, "She was excited."

The older brother's eyebrows rose, "Good job. Let's go talk to Etta."

* * *

"I thought I told you to stop fidgeting."

"I'm not fidgeting, I'm adjusting. These hose are killing me." Dean laughed as they approached the door to the witness' home. "My _stockings,_ Dean. I lived through petticoats and corsets yet somehow fashion hasn't evolved in comfort for women at all."

"I thought you said you've worked with hunters before."

"I have. But never from a point where I had to dress like a damn schoolteacher."

Sam put his hand on her back and lead her up the stairs to the door, "It's almost over."

The men handled the formalities. Introducing themselves and Chelsea as an agent in training. Etta showed them to her living room where the brother immediately occupied two arm chairs. The blonde offered a spot on the couch to the witch with a gesture.

"I'm good here." she perched on the right arm of the chair Sam had settled in, crossing her legs.

"Oh, ok."

Once she was settled, Sam started in on the questions, "So your husband was one of the missing in nineteen eighty-nine."

"My _second_ husband." the woman corrected, "But barely even that. Pete only stuck around a couple of months."

"He left voluntarily?"

"Pete was volunteering himself all over the place. Right before he disappeared, people saw him diddling two different women. In public and on separate occasions."

Three sets of eyes collectively widened. "And these women?" Chelsea asked.

Etta sat up straiter in her seat, "Doris Kagen and Missy Peterson."

Sam looked at the witch before confirming, "Now, Doris and Missy also went missing that year."

Etta didn't seem to care, "Surprise surprise. I'll bet my mortgage one of them ran off with him."

"But you reported him as missing."

"He didn't come home for three days." she shrugged, "I didn't find out about the women until much later."

Sam took a deep breath then paused, "Is that white sage?"

The blonde was impressed, "It is." she eyed him up and down, "You know your herbs."

Chelsea cleared her throat and looked down at her hands idly. She felt Sam shift in the chair but Dean relieved them of the awkward pause, "Going on a trip?" he gestured to the luggage by the door.

"Yeah." after sort of glaring at the witch she perked back up, "I'm going to stay with my sister."

"Any particular reason?"

She seemed hesitant, then said, "You're going to think it's crazy."

"You'd be surprised at the kind of crazy stuff we here." Sam reassured her.

"When Pete went missing and we found out about the women, my grandmother said he got the chitters. According to her, once a generation around the spring equinox, the whole town loses it. Having orgies and copulating in the woods. Then they disappear." she sighed, "I never believed what she said but now people are disappearing again. She always said, 'burn sage to protect yourself'."

"SO, why'd she call it 'the chitters'?"

"It's what she called the sound coming from the woods. Buzzing and rattling during the orgies I guess."

Chelsea reached up and scratched her head, she'd heard the word orgy more times than she cared for. The action distracted Etta but Dean pulled her focus back, "Did she ever say anything about green eyes?"

"She did! Gran said if you got the chitters you'd get so revved up with lust that your eyes would shine like emeralds." this time she ran her eyes over Dean.

The witch stood and adjusted her skirt, holding out her hands, "Thank you, Ms. Fraser."

"Oh, sure thing."

The boys stood and followed suit, saying their goodbyes and heading for the door. Once near the car Chelsea turned tot hem and crossed her arms, "Is that normal for you two?"

Sam scratched his head while Dean adjusted his pants and grinned, "Yeah."

She rolled her eyes, "Well besides Etta being all hot and bothered, she gave us quite a bit."

"Yup. Spring equinox was yesterday."

"And green eyes and buzzing."

"What about the orgies?" Chelsea asked as she lent against the car to take off the pumps and sigh in relief.

"What about them?"

She opened the back door, "Body snatching has to be related to how they're having orgies without bits and pieces." The brothers just stood outside the car for a moment, letting that sink in until she rolled down the window, "C'mon! I want out of these clothes!"


	9. The Chitters

**Chapter 9**

 **The Chitters**

 **A/N:** Sorry for the wait on this one. I'm a busy adult.

* * *

"I thought you went back to the station?" Chelsea spun a circle, looking around, "Where's Dean?"

Sam had just called the witch to him when he arrived in the alley. When they had returned to the motel the Sheriff called and Chelsea elected to stay behind.

"We did go back. One of the kids who got attacked said she saw two of the missing, um...having sex in the alleyway."

"And Dean is?"

"In the woods. He got a call from Cori about Libby."

"Ganja girl? So he gets a nature hike while we get an alley full of body snatchers?"

"Looks like it."

Sam headed down towards the opening of the alleyway with Chelsea behind him, "I don't hear anything." she kept her voice low.

"Me either."

They were standing in the center of the alley when Chelsea pat her thighs idly, "There's nothing here. What now?"

"We meet up with Dean?"

"We could blindly track him in the woods and possibly get lost or we could meet him back at the motel." She did a weighing gesture with her hands.

"You can't just go to him?"

She shook her head, "I can go where I've been before, but it took me a long time to practice it without being several miles off or impaled on various things. No passengers either. Or objects..." she trailed off, seeming to get lost in her head "...they end up in strange places."

He was still cringing at imagining her teleporting onto a stake or pole and didn't even bother looking for clarification on the objects. "So you could go to the bunker, or the motel room?"

"Sort of. I have to remember a place exactly so I don't land on anything. With the bunker I can maybe end up in the library or my room, but I might break something."

"Are you able to go to people?"

"Doesn't really work the same way. The person could be somewhere I've never been."

"So how do you get to me?"

"It's the ring." She stepped closer to him, "When _you_ call I come involuntarily. It's an order I complete as efficiently as possible, just like any other order."

He looked down at her and realized she was actually pretty tall. Now that they were comparing without her heels from earlier. Her eye line now was at just about his chin, earlier they could look eye to eye.

Chelsea broke the moment by stepping away and saying, "So, empty alley. The woods seem to be the recurring factor here..."

"It does. We should wait for-" he stopped as his phone started ringing and looked at the screen, "It's Dean." He answered it.

 _"Sam?"_

"Yeah." he pulled away and put the phone on speaker, "What happened?"

 _"Junkless attacked me."_

Chelsea rolled her eyes before asking, "You ok?"

 _"...yeah. Some hunters saved my ass. We're at a bar in town, Vans."_

"We'll be right there." Sam put the phone in his pocket and they both headed for the car.

Chelsea sighed as she buckled herself into the front seat, "I guess I feel bad for saying he was going on a nature hike."

* * *

Dean thanked the waitress for his beer with a nod before picking it up, "How long have you guys been hunting?"

"Together? Seven years." Jesse, one of the two hunters who saved him answered the question before picking up his beer.

Cesar, the other hunter, nodded, "And we've heard of the Winchester's, but we also heard you guys bit it a couple years ago."

Dean chuckled as the door to the establishment opened, "That's a long story."

Sam let Chelsea in before entering behind her and throwing his hand up. He was quick to notice that they needed another chair for the witch and grabbed one as Dean did introductions, "Sam, Chelsea, this is Jesse and Cesar."

The witch shook hands quietly as Dean took over positioning her chair between the brothers and calling for two more beers.

"You guys are hunters right?" the younger Winchester asked as he shook hands and took a seat. There were nods and yeah's before he said, "I'm surprised we've never run into you."

"We work mostly in Mexico." Cesar answered and eyed Chelsea, "I was telling your brother we've heard of you. But this is?" he gestured to the only female.

"She's our..." Dean started.

"Uh..." Sam tried.

"Resident witch until further notice. I'm friendly, I promise." Chelsea answered quickly and honestly as the waitress approached. She took her beer with thanks and to the bewilderment of the men, put a glass on the table once the waitress walked away.

Dean eyed the glass, "Isn't it a little early for Jack?"

"Nope."

He chuckled as his brother reached behind her to tap his arm, "Nothing in the alley by the way."

"Do you guys have any idea what we're hunting?"

Jesse nodded solemnly, "They're called Busaan. It's a kind of cicada spirit."

"We couldn't find any lore on them."

"They're rare in America. Supposedly they originate from the forests in Malaysia."

"So what are they doing here?"

Jesse seemed to know a lot and the three hung on his words, Cesar listening idly, "What they do. Every 27 years they come up from underground and they mate like rabbits for a few days. Then the generation dies off and the cycle repeats."

"Ok." Chelsea put down her drink, "But all we've seen are townspeople. If these things are coming from underground how are they bodysnatching?"

Jesse fired up his tablet and turned it so they could see, " _This_ is what comes out of the ground. They can't reproduce on their own so they go in through the mouth and use the human body." he changed the picture from an alien looking creature with no genitalia, to a human with pale skin and a hollow face.

"Well, that explains Junkless."

Chelsea rolled her eyes at Dean, "I really wish you'd stop saying that."

Sam ignored them mostly, "So what's with the buzzing?"

"Mating call."

"And head removal is the most efficient kill?"

A nod.

The witch couldn't help but stare idly at Jesse. He seemed too knowledgeable, too unbothered by the situation. "You've done this before."

"Excuse me?"

"You're involved." Sam put a hand on her shoulder when he realized the discomfort she'd just caused. She glanced at him and followed with, "I'm just getting this feeling that you've seen this go down before. It's personal."

Cesar watched his partner, waiting for him to say something.

"One of those things took my brother twenty-seven years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"I've been waiting years to come back and have this shot." he looked her in her eyes, "So I'm going to have to ask that the three of you step back from this one."

He meant it. The witch lent back in her seat to put the brothers in her peripherals. She questioned them with her expression. They nodded in agreement and she nodded also, picking up her drink as Dean continued the conversion, "Ok, your lead, catch us up. Where have you been?"

"We've been in the woods. Looking for their burrow and saving your ass."

Chelsea snorted into her drink and felt Dean glare at her. She didn't look up. She heard Cesar sigh and Jesse questioned him, "What?"

"We've been holed up in the woods because Jesse hates the town and everyone in it."

"Because they're ignorant and useless. They didn't believe me then, they won't believe me now."

The witch grinned and scooted closer to the table as the two bickered. Sure, talking to leads was important, but Jesse had his reasons. It was clear they'd argued about it quite possibly the whole time they'd been working the case.

Dean chuckled, "You guys fight just like brothers. Almost as bad as us."

Cesar looked down at his drink then back up at Dean, "More like an old married couple."

"I knew it."

"Chelsea!" Sam scolded her as she continued smiling.

"What? All I did was notice the energy, the chemistry." she spoke animatedly with her hands then shrugged, "It's an intuition thing, not a witch thing."

He shook his head while his brother asked, "What's it like settling down with a hunter?"

"Smelly and dirty." Cesar joked before turning serious, "You worry more about getting ganked."

"But you have each other's backs. Always."

Jesse finally looked up from his lap and nodded at the witch, "Yeah, we do."

If there was something the Winchesters couldn't deny, it was that having a woman around softened things. But besides the light conversation there was a case to solve, "What do you know about the Sheriff from eighty-nine? Cochran?"

"He was an incompetent son of a bitch. Shut himself away years ago."

"You know where he is?"

"Yeah. He lives like a hermit in the mountains a few towns over."

"Can you take us to him?" Sam asked, "He was closing in on the missing then just stopped."

"We need to find the burrow."

"Jess, we've been beating around the woods for two days." Cesar reasoned.

"Because that's where they are! You've seen the tracks." Jesse pleaded.

"I can search for them on my own." Cesar tried.

"I think this is a perfect opportunity to split up." Chelsea offered.

Dean agreed and gestured to Cesar, "I can go with you. We start where I got jumped. Chelsea and Sam can go with Jesse."

"Sounds like a plan."

They paid for their beers and drinks and went outside to the separate cars. Sam called after his brother as Cesar and Jesse chatted, "Chelsea should go with you." he told his brother.

"What?" was the unanimous reply.

"You guys are going where those things are, the more of you the better. And when one of you can move things and such..." He eyed the witch.

"But I-" she started.

"Go with Dean. Do what he says."

Despite feeling like he was babysitting, Dean was a little smug. He sauntered over to the car and opened his door, only for it to yank from his hand and slam closed. Chelsea smiled as she got in but messed with him a few more times.

"Everything alright?" Cesar asked as he got in the car.

The older brother quickly opened the door and dove into the car. He glared into the backseat before reaching for the door; it slammed closed. "Cut it out!"

She smiled and answered the other hunter, "Everything is fine."

* * *

Chelsea stayed out of the conversation for the ride up the mountain. She was in her head. Listening to the low radio and the air rushing outside the car. It was dark when they arrived and it threatened to rain. Dean handed her a flashlight and armed himself with a machete, "Stay close."

"Yes sir."

"Have you ever hunted before?" Cesar asked, arming himself also.

"I have." she sighed, "After convincing whatever hunter that found me that I wasn't the cause of whatever they were after."

"Yeah. It's a common myth that all witches are agents of the devil or products of demon contracts." he pat her gently on the shoulder, "We hunters can be pretty stubborn."

"I've noticed."

"So how did you meet the Winchesters?"

She was inspecting the flashlight for an on switch and smiled a little before finding it and looking back up, "You could say they hunted me. It worked out and now I'm helping them with something."

"So this is a short term contractual thing?"

She tried not to think about her tarot read. This being her path and all, "You could say that."

Dean cut in and closed the trunk, having heard their exchange. "Let's go!"

He held Chelsea back as they followed Cesar into the woods, "Short term contract?" he questioned the witch.

"I don't plan on sticking around until you two croak of old age. I said I'd help with Amara, world ends and I get to die? Great. No boom? I move on."

"And Sam?"

"What about him?"

Dean scoffed, "He seems attached."

"I hadn't noticed."

"Look, Sammy and girls-"

"Don't even." she cut him off, "It's not like that and it won't be. Remember, I only listen to his order because he's got the ring. Don't mix it up with anything else."

It was the first time her playful demeanor had really cracked since they'd met her. Dean didn't really mind, at least he wouldn't have to deal with a heartbroken brother somewhere down the road. She sighed as Cesar came into view, "The ring will make him feel attached to me. But I've been through that with him."

"Is that why Nathaniel went nuts?"

He was mostly joking but without looking back at him and picking up stride to join the other hunter, she said, "It is."

They caught up to Cesar and slowly worked the area. Flashlights trained on the ground, looking for mounds of dirt signifying a Busaan recently leaving the earth. They came to an area where the trees were spaced further apart and they noticed several holes in the ground. The men silently agreed to split up.

Dean nudged the woman, "Go that way, stay in sight of me."

She nodded, stepping carefully and being as alert as she could. Off to her left she could see Dean, and to her right, Cesar. Time went slowly, almost painfully so. A step, step, and another step- A twig snapped off to her right and she looked up, realizing she couldn't see Cesar. She turned to get Dean's attention, clicking her flashlight on and off. He stopped and headed towards her.

"Ah!"

Chelsea took off running and heard Dean come up right behind her. She arrived first with just enough time to fling the thing off Cesar with a hand wave. It landed a few feet away, getting up quickly and hissing before running off.

"Chelsea!" Dean shouted as she took off after it and kept looking in her general direction as he helped Cesar stand.

"Go!"

"You OK?"

"I'm fine, go!"

It didn't take much for him to catch up to her and grab her. "I got it!" she hissed.

"Just wait. What did you plan to do when you caught it?" he whispered.

He was really close and she tried not to breathe too hard, "Kill it."

"Better idea. We follow it."

He had her backed to a wide tree and eased around it to see if the creature was still there. It had been confused for a second, not expecting to lose its pursuer, then continued to amble through the woods at a slower pace. Dean backed off the witch and the two followed it for no more than a mile; where it ducked around an old mine.

"Ok, now what?" the witch asked, still winded.

"That's got to be the burrow. We go back and get Cesar, then we torch it."

They jogged back to Cesar who was sitting on a log, nursing his rolled his ankle. Chelsea grinned at him and he asked, "You lost it?"

"We followed it." Dean answered.

"And found the burrow."

"Thank god." He tried to stand, and being the stronger of the able bodied people, Dean helped him.

"You OK on that?" he referred to the ankle.

"It's fine. What's the plan?"

"We light it up." Chelsea answered. "What about Sam and Jesse?"

Dean checked his phone, "No signal. Can you go to him?"

"Then _you_ won't have me. Once I go I can't come back without him."

He thought about it and she poked his shoulder, "You need me more than he does right now. He's fine."

"How do you know?"

She tilted her head to the side and raised the back of her hand, wiggling her ring finger. It clicked. "Right." he said walking off, "You stay with us. We'll worry about it later."

The three moved through the dark, back towards the mine. When they arrived the entrance was boarded up. "Allow me."

The witch touched Dean's shoulder as he moved closer. She raised both hands and made an abrupt hand gesture. Sprawling her fingers outward. The explosion was pretty contained and the remaining boards just sort of crumpled and tipped over.

The Winchester was impressed, "Not bad. How'd you do that?"

"Something about compressing existing chemicals in the air and some other junk." She moved past them and into the dark tunnel. She turned back to say something about the lack of light, then, nothing.

Cesar turned a full one-eighty, "What happened?"

"Dammit. Sammy must have called her when he couldn't reach my cell."

The other man sighed, "She would have been useful."

Dean looked out into the dark tunnel and sighed also, "Yeah..."

* * *

"God dammit! Sam!"

"What? What's wrong?"

Chelsea put both hands in her hair and took a deep breath, "Dean and Cesar just went into the Busaan den without me."

"Old mine?" Sam asked as they moved towards the truck.

"Yeah. How..?"

Jesse unlocked the doors and gestured to the cabin with a look, "We got that coward to tell us."

"The Sheriff?"

Sam nodded and opened the passenger door for the witch to climb in and slide over to the middle. The truck rumbled to life as he himself climbed in and closed the door.

Chelsea wasn't sure if she should ask but she felt the urge to, "How is he?"

Jesse didn't even spare her a glance as he pulled off, "He's living the life he deserves."

She accepted that answer and turned to Sam, "I have no idea how many of those things are in that mine and Cesar is injured."

"What happened?" Jesse's voice was urgent.

Chelsea put a hand on his shoulder, "Just his ankle. Twisted it tussling with one of those things in the woods."

"What's the plan?"

"Clear the mine then burn it down."

"I couldn't get a hold of him." Sam checked his phone, watching the bars disappear as they moved deeper into the woods.

"He tried to call and get you guys up to speed. We hoped you'd get a lead off the sheriff or just come looking."

"There they are."

Jesse pulled the truck right up to Dean and Cesar who were taking gas cans from the trunk of the Impala. They looked unharmed and rather pleased with themselves.

"It's all cleared out. Ready for the gas whenever you are." Dean said as the three approached.

Cesar put a hand on his lover's shoulder, "Do you want to take a moment?"

Jesse nodded and the two headed up the hill and back into the woods. Dean lent against the Impala and sighed, "We'll give 'em five minutes and head up. Everything ok?"

"Couldn't get through to your cell. Sorry."

"It's cool. I want to run something by you, Sammy."

Sam looked to the witch, "Just me?"

She rolled her eyes, "Oh I'm fine to by the way. Should I plug my ears and sing a song?"

Dean ignored her and slightly tugged his brother off to the side. "We could use their help."

The younger Winchester was a little confused, "With?"

"With Amara. The more hunters we have around the better."

"I don't know about that, Dean."

"Why not? We need every ounce of help we can get here. They're both capable hunters, just like us."

"Dean, capable? Seriously? We did this. We unleashed all of this mess, we always unleash all the crap that threatens to end the world. Maybe we should handle our own problems and let them live their lives?"

The brothers grew quiet and Chelsea continued pretending she wasn't listening. When she saw Cesar and Jesse return with a bundle she silently picked up a gas can and headed for the mine. She passed them with a nod of acknowledgement and was almost at her destination when Sam caught up.

"Hey, sorry about that." He greeted and started covering things in gas.

"Not a big deal."

"Well it's not fair to cut you out of the conversation like that."

Chelsea chuckled dismissively, "It's not really about what's fair. You were right, this is your mess; yours and your brother's."

"Yeah..."

"Look. I'm not going anywhere. I get something out of this either way. We lose I get to die, we win...well, then we win."

Sam couldn't help but continue to try and explain, "Dean is just-"

"An asshole?" she interrupted, "Yeah, I know."

"What are you two talking about?" Dean sauntered into the mine, dumping gasoline in already soaked areas.

The witch rolled her eyes and swung her empty can idly, "Wouldn't you like to know. I'll be in the car."

Sam sighed at his brother and Dean just shrugged and went about his task.

* * *

"What are you guys going to do now?"

"We think it's time to retire." Cesar said with smile.

"We've been paying on a little ranch in Texas. Now that this is done and my brother has been laid to rest...it's time."

Sam smiled and pat Jesse on the shoulder, "That sounds amazing."

"It does." Chelsea agreed with a smile.

Silence hung for a moment before Dean held out his hand for a firm handshake with Cesar, "Maybe one day we can all retire. Good luck."

"Thanks man." he glanced at Jesse, "It seems like you guys may have something brewing though..."

"Do you need our help?" Jesse finished.

"No." Dean's immediate answer was soft despite being very finite, "Go enjoy that ranch. We can handle it."

The trio took their leave and Chelsea just watched the back of Dean's head in silence. It went on like that for a couple miles until Sam glanced over his shoulder. He could almost feel her pointed concentration. "Everything OK?"

She smiled slightly then looked out the window, "Yeah. I'm good."

"Quiet in here." Dean commented before turning on the radio.

Sam turned back in his seat and just tried not to think on it too hard. Back to the task at hand.


	10. The Witch Dies at the End

**Chapter 10**

 **The Witch Dies at the End**

 **A/N: But like...not really.**

* * *

"Good, we're gonna need our suits."

Dean looked up from his ironing as Sam entered the kitchen. "Got something on Amara?"

"Might be a long-shot but it's better than nothing. Hey, Chelsea."

The witch appeared in the kitchen and put out a hand to steady herself as she stumbled a little. She narrowed her gaze at Sam through mostly wet curls and took her toothbrush out of her mouth, "One of these days I'll be naked when you do that."

He chuckled, "Sorry."

Dean grinned and shook his head, setting the iron aside as the witch spit into the kitchen sink, "Whatcha got?" he reached out for the tablet.

"Hope Springs, Idaho. A guy named Wes Cooper killed himself after killing a coworker. According to the reports, nobody knows why."

Chelsea stood right behind Dean and tried to get a good look at the tablet, "I'm lost. Are murder suicides her thing?"

"Sounds like maybe a possession?" Dean tried.

"I think he might have been soulless."

The witch was still confused, "She snatches souls?"

"Yeah."

"Well damn..."

Dean turned slightly as she moved from behind him and around into his view, "It ain't much, but given what we got, I'll take it." with a smile he thrust the white shirt he was ironing at his brother and left the kitchen.

Chelsea took a sniff, "Smell that?"

Sam sniffed too, then directly sniffed his shirt, "Dean!" he shouted, "Stop ironing my shirts with beer!"

* * *

"I appreciate the FBI taking an interest in this case. We don't usually see stuff like this around here."

"Hey, you mind if I leave Sheriff?"

The blonde officer smiled as attention was now on her. The Sheriff chuckled and turned back to Chelsea and the Winchesters, "Newlywed."

None of the three could really relate but they did their best to return some sort of nod or smile. "How about you show Agent Greer the M.E. files then you can go."

Her face broke into a smile as she stood, "Thank you, Sheriff." She walked back to what was obviously some sort of file room and Sam followed behind.

Once he was out of sight Dean asked, "What do you have on Mr. Cooper?"

"We talked to his friends and family. No one has any idea why he would do something like this." he sighed, "We have a witness who overheard him before he took his own life. He was saying things that sounded out of character."

Chelsea couldn't help her head-tilt, "How so?"

"Wes said his life was meaningless and nobody loved him. It was as if every negative thought he'd ever had came spilling out."

"Pretty average things to hear from someone with depression maybe." the witch tried, "Sometimes the culprit behind unfortunate events like these." she could feel Dean's gaze but held the Sheriff's attention instead.

The man shook his head, "Not to argue that he _wasn't_ depressed, who's to say, but he and his wife were the definition of a loving couple. She loved him unconditionally until the day she died."

"And his behavior after her passing?"

"What one would expect. But he never spiraled out like this."

Dean and Chelsea looked at each other for a moment. Sam rejoined them and the officer, Deputy Harris, gave a wave and smile as she gathered her things and left. Dean rapped softly on the Sheriff's desk, "Thank you Sheriff, we'll help however we can."

Chelsea handed the man a card for their motel and the three left.

"Well?" Dean asked once they were outside the station.

"It's her."

* * *

"Evil fog?" Chelsea sat on one of the beds with her legs crossed, "Are you serious?"

"It's part of her, or _is_ her, maybe just some kind of evil spillover. We saw it first hand when she was freed."

Chelsea perked an eyebrow and ate one of her fries, "You mean when _you_ freed her."

Dean sighed heavily through his nose, "Yes."

"Look, I'm just making sure you know you did this."

"I do know."

She put both hands in the air and fell back onto the almost too firm mattress. She ate another fry and tried not to focus too hard on the weird stain on the ceiling."Technically it's Sam's fault."

"Jesus Christ..."

"Don't pout." she sat up and spoke around a mouthful of potato, "Fill me in. What does this menacing fog do?"

Sam threw the trash from his food away and cleared his throat, "If you breathe it in it takes over. Most people turn into these mindless killers, angry and unfazed by pain. For others they just die."

"Just like that?"

"It varies. It takes longer or shorter periods for it to take affect in some people. Some die right away, some take a few hours or days."

Chelsea looked into her now empty fry container, "Think it could kill me?"

The brothers looked at each other, "I don't know. Doesn't seem like much of anything can kill you." Dean answered.

She seemed to look a little sad at that but perked right away, "Well, how do we stop it?"

"We don't."

"Excuse me?"

"It's odd enough that it seems to come and go. I mean, it only affected one man."

The witch still wasn't satisfied, "So what? We sit around and wait for it to come back? Is she controlling it or is it just free roaming? Why _did_ it only affect one man?"

"We don't know."

"I'm not feeling very confident here." she stood up and started pacing.

"Look. We can maybe just get the town evacuated or something, but we don't have enough. It'll just cause panic."

Sam was right but still. It seemed insane that they could do literally nothing. What were they even there for?

Dean decided to play big brother and dispel all the frustration, "Let's just get some sleep. We'll get on a plan first thing."

He looked to his brother who nodded and stood, heading to the pull-out couch. Chelsea sort of scoffed and plopped down, laying on her back, occupying the bed she had been sitting on before.

It was better than everyone talking in circles and with a sigh he shut out the lights.

* * *

"I'm sorry for waking you guys up."

"No, it's alright. What happened?"

The Sheriff looked exhausted and confused. He put both hands in his jacket pockets, "Harris didn't show up for work this morning. We called, tried her CB, nothing. So I swung by here and I found her husband, Art. He was on the kitchen floor and her shotgun was beside him. She shot her husband point-blank in the face and left the scene."

The trio was without words. It took them a second or two to recover and Sam asked, "Has she been off? Showing any strange behavior in the last couple of days?"

"No, nothing at all."

"When was the last time anyone had heard from her?"

"She called in for the last time yesterday. Said something about seeing some fog rolling in. Don't know why she cared about the damn weather..."

The trio eyed each other. There was the answer. Amara's fog came through here. "Please let your dispatcher know that she is to let us know if she gets anymore reports like that." Dean said.

The sheriff was confused, "Are you serious?"

"Yes." Dean answered, "Just to be safe."

"Do you know where she might have gone?" Sam asked.

"No clue." Realization crossed the sheriffs face like relief, "But we can track her squad car from the station."

Everyone just moved. The trio piled into the car and peeled off toward the station. Chelsea lent into the front from her usual seat in the back, "We can't do anything about that fog if it's coming."

"What do you mean _if_?"

"You know what I mean. We can worry about the deputy hurting someone else, sure, but what about the rest of the town? Do you seriously believe Amara was after one cop?"

Sam looked at her, somewhat realizing what she was trying to say, "One case got us here..."

"And that was enough."

Dean sighed as he pulled up to the station and turned off the car, "Smells like a trap."

" _Is_ a trap." The witch corrected as she got out of the car. The Sheriff pulled up right behind them and everyone headed inside.

"So you think she controls the fog." Dean realized what more Chelsea was trying to say in the car. She'd even asked about it the night before in an attempt to understand it better.

He'd dropped his voice and more or less halted her in the station hallway while the others continued on. The witch was stunned and confused, "I do. What's with all the secrecy?"

Dean stepped back but kept his voice low, "I wondered if she was watching me."

"A seemingly straight forward answer, but not the whole thing."

"What are you saying?"

"You want to know if she's looking for you…seeking you out." she crossed her arms, "What about her, exactly, can you not kick?"

He couldn't decide if he could answer. And apparently the sad yet quizzical deer in headlights look annoyed the witch enough to make her drop the subject and walk away with a "Whatever."

Sam was awkwardly waiting for them at the opening to the squad room. Chelsea shrugged and the three approached the Sheriff who pushed back from the computer, "I can't make heads or tails of this. Harris is… _was_ our computer person."

"Let me give it a shot." Sam suggested.

"Hey Sherif!" another cop called out as he and Sam switched places. "I just got a call from the Hendersons. They saw some fog rolling in by Jasper Hills."

The stunned vibe in the room didn't last long as Dean spoke up, "Did they say where it was headed?"

"West, towards town."

"Okay. Call them back, tell them to get inside shut their windows or doors and seal it up, and stay the hell away from that fog. Then get the word out to everybody in town that they need to do the same thing."

Dean pulled command in the room just like that. The officer jumped into calling and Chelsea just sort of, marveled at him a little.

"Hold on." Sherif grappled for clarification, not quite so enthralled, "What are you talking about?"

"My partners and I have seen this before, ok? Wes and Deputy Harris were affected by whatever is in this fog. I know it sounds crazy-"

"No." the sherif cut him off, "It sounds like we should call the CDC."

"No time for that." Chelsea interjected, "They can't do shit about it anyway." she said under her breath.

"I got Harris!" Sam called out.

The witch took in the map and moving blip on the screen, "Doesn't main street cross this building?" she asked.

"Yeah-"

She looked right at the older Winchester, "Then she's outside."

Dean put his hand up to stop the Sherif, "We will deal with Harris. Help get the word out."

When they exited to the street, Harris was just sitting in the car. Staring at the steering wheel. Chelsea halted the brothers, "Trap, remember?"

"We have to talk to her." Sam offered.

"If I have to stop her-"

"Don't hurt her."

"We don't know what she's going to do." the witch hissed.

The door to the idling squad car clicked open and Dean took a deep breath, "We're about to find out."

Deputy Harris looked…exhausted. Her eyes were dark and hallow and black veins stood raised all over her skin. It looked painful. She closed the door rubbed her forehead, gun in hand, "I tried to kill myself, but _she_ wouldn't let me."

Harris finally looked up from the ground and took a deep breath, raising her voice a little, "She has a message for you, Dean Winchester."

Dean's face contorted in shock and disbelief, despite having come to a conclusion about the fog earlier, "Amara?" he asked, "Is she here?"

"No. But her words have been echoing in my head ever since I took a breath of that fog."

Did she tell you to kill your husband?"

"And I watched myself do it." tears streaked the Deputy's face.

Sam spoke up, "This is an infection. Put the gun down, we can help you."

"It's not an infection." she corrected, "She says it's a mirror. She's showing us all the truth."

Chelsea just watched her gun hand. Waiting for a moment to get it from her. But when Dean spoke in realization, "Darkness." It pulled her attention just long enough for the Deputy to raise her arm.

"The light was just a lie!"

The two following gunshots made the witch flinch as the Deputy slumped to the ground. She glanced behind her at the Sherif, gun still raised, and then bak to Dean rushing to her side. "It's all going away, forever." she overheard, "But not you, Dean."

A large hand grabbed her upper arm and when Chelsea gave Sam her attention he was looking off down the road. He called out to his brother next who without missing a beat started barking out orders. "Get all these people in the station."

She and Sam took off down the street. Stopping cars and gesturing people out of them, pointing them to the police station.

"I think I can hold it back." the woman spoke up as screams could be heard further down the street where the fast moving fog swallowed up cars and buildings.

Sam didn't stop helping a family with a toddler out of a truck. "Do it!"

It was coming like an avalanche, and despite the couple running towards her, Chelsea put her hands up. The fog enveloped the couple then seemed to be pressed in place by a wall. Her heart was pounding as she heard footsteps hustling away from her. She heard Dean ask his brother, "What is she doing?!"

"It's only slowing it down!" she shouted back at them. The brothers expressions changed and she looked forward. The fog had piled up and spilled over her "wall". She took a step back but it was already around her ankles, running up her legs.

"Oh my god."

Dean grabbed his brother, "We gotta go."

She held her breath but it didn't do any good. The couple from before came stumbling forward, practically collapsing at her feet. Tears burned her eyes and her heart pounded. This was real; it was affecting her.

"Dean, we can't leave her out there."

"We can't bring her around these people either." The clear doors to the station closed and shortly after Chelsea pressed her hands to it.

She only nodded at the brothers before putting her back to the door. A signal that she was fine with being left outside.

Sam looked down at the ring on his hand and clenched his fist, a moment later his back was to the wall. "What did you do?!"

Chelsea grabbed the front of his jacket and all he could really see where the black veins in her hands and arms, crawling up her neck and across her jaw.

"I didn't-"

"You did!" she cut him off before coughing violently. There was banging at the door. Several men covered in dark veins made threatening gestures and beat the glass.

"They're coming in." The witch stood her ground as the brothers joined the few people they could save deeper into the building. The glass shattered and with a shoving motion from the witch the men flew backwards.

The brothers didn't catch anything else as with a look she closed the solid doors they hadn't even realized they'd crossed. Dean grabbed his brother, "Do _not_ call her again." He hissed as the sounds of a fight ensued outside.

"Phones are dead." The Sherif said, hanging up the handset he was holding.

The brothers didn't miss a beat, "Duct tape." Dean said, "We gotta seal this place up."

On the other side of the door, Chelsea was getting tired. More of the people from outside had poured in and she just couldn't keep up. She didn't have the energy to use her powers, and her attacks were getting weaker. They surged on the door she'd closed and she could see the blue spark of magic barring them fizzle out.

 _"Think it could kill me?"_

 _"I don't know. It doesn't seem like much of anything can kill you."_

She was on all fours at this point and the shouting around her dulled to a hum. Her hands, pressed flat to the ugly linoleum floor, came in and out of focus. Then...dark.

"Sam!"

The younger Winchester fell to the floor, coughing. He held up his hands as the veins spread and fog filled the room. Apparently duct tape wasn't enough. Dean ushered the people into a closed off office. and hurriedly tried to tape over the bottom of the door. The double doors continued to rattle and Sam, despite his own distractions, couldn't feel Chelsea anymore, the gold ring seemed to go cold on his finger. He slumped over further and Dean abandoned his task to be at his side.

"C'mon Sam." He didn't take too long to realize something…

"It doesn't affect you." Sam said aloud, noticing his brother's lack of symptoms.

"We can get out of here."

"No. You're the only one. Just go!"

The people in the office started screaming. The fog had seeped under the partially taped door.

"I'm not leaving you! Ever!" Dean was truly at a loss of what to do until he noticed something in Sam's pocket, a pure white light.

The younger brother stopped coughing and the fog started to dissipate. The glowing item was the amulet Sam had given Dean years ago; the one that glowed in God's presence...presumably.

The Winchesters then noticed the silence, just before Chelsea popped into the room. Her expression was a mix of confusion and a bit of fear. "What happened?"

Her voice shook just a bit. Dean stood, helping his brother up as he did and touched her arm, "What do you remember?"

"It was dark. I think I might have died for real..." she got distracted by the light in his hand, "What the hell is that?"

He didn't get to answer her as everyone came out of the office. They all seemed perfectly fine and as Dean moved for the door to outside Sam and Chelsea followed, still in a bit of a daze. They flanked him as they approached the street. Deputy Harris was standing, bullet holes gone, just as what appeared to be her husband came around the squad car and embraced her.

All over the street, people who were easily dead, stood and hugged each other. Not quite celebratory as everything was still so unclear.

As they moved down the street the light in Dean's hand got brighter. Until it was so much so Chelsea averted her eyes. The boys stopped, recognizing someone with their back turned.

The man faced them. Showing a really unassuming smile, curled hair, small stature. "Chuck?" the brother's asked.

He continued to smile softly, "We should probably talk."


	11. What If God Was One Of Us? (Part 1)

**Chapter 11**

 **What If God Was One Of Us? (Part 1)**

 **A/N: I was holding onto these so I could double upload but it took me WAY longer to complete them than I hoped. My bad.**

* * *

Chelsea was honestly still too confused and a little scared to really formulate any complete thoughts. Here she was in the middle of the road with two hunters, where previously dead people were getting up and hugging each other, and they were questioning this small man named Chuck.

She didn't even bother trying to figure out the glowing thing and what it had to do with anything. To be honest, she really just wanted to sit and hug herself for an hour or two. After all, she did actually die.

Or at least she thought she had.

"What the hell is going on?" Dean broke from his stupor and asked the man.

Chuck raised his hands in a gentle gesture, "I'm more than happy to fill in the blanks for you guys. But maybe we should go somewhere where we could actually sit down."

The older Winchester was hostile, "We're not going anywhere with you. How do we know you're really Chuck and not just some spell or manifest...ation." he trailed.

The warmth of the bunker surrounded them as "Chuck" snapped his fingers. The witch's stomach flip-flopped. As the brother's looked around, surprised, she fell into the nearest chair putting her head between her knees, "I think I'm gonna hurl."

"Kevin?"

"Who the hell is Kevin?" she asked as she raised her head. From behind the...Chuck, what was clearly an asian decent teenager stepped into view. He smiled at the brothers and spared the witch a friendly glance, "Hey guys!" he greeted cheerfully, "New friend?"

The boys just watched him with their mouths open and Chelsea put together that this Kevin kid _shouldn't_ be there somehow. Meanwhile his smile faltered a bit, "You guys are lookin stressed." he eyed Dean, "Especially you."

The Winchester's only continued to stare blankly and he chuckled, "It's cool. Trust Chuck. Whatever it is he needs you to do, he must think you can handle it."

Chelsea found herself fixated on Dean's expression. It wasn't shock, it was pain. Kevin went on to say, " _I_ always trusted you."

"Yeah, that ended well." The older Winchester answered.

Sam finally snapped out of it, "How? I mean, are you ok? Um..."

The teenager just continued to smile, "Yeah! I'm great! You know, considering the circumstances."

Chuck held up a hand, "I don't mean to interrupt but we have a lot to discuss." he turned to Kevin and clapped him on the shoulder, "You, my friend, have been in the veil long enough. Time for an upgrade."

With a wave of his arm Chuck released Kevin and Chelsea realized that the kid was dead, trapped in the veil, and somehow his death had to do with the Winchester's...or rather with Dean, whose guilt was so potent just moments ago.

She watched in awe as the pure white light of Kevin's soul raised to the ceiling and passed through.

Dean worded her sentiments for her as she was still pretty dazed herself, "Holy crap."

The energy in the room was weird after that.

Chuck perched himself across the from the trio. His hands were folded between his knees and he smiled idly as an excited Sam rambled. He apologized for Chelsea and Dean, who respectively were staring at the floor and off into the distance, obviously uncomfortable, "You have to excuse them. I'm sure they're still processing."

Neither of them said a word.

Sam went on, "This is huge. We had no idea you were around. I mean, we knew about Chuck but we didn't know about..." he just sort of made a grand gesture. After all, how else does one address God? "Should we even call you Chuck?"

"I prefer it." Chuck eyed the witch and older Winchester, "I'm getting that not everyone's totally on board."

They looked at each other, Dean and Chelsea, before Dean took a breath and looked Chuck in the eye, his gaze then immediately faltering, "Here's the thing, Chuck... And I mean no disrespect. Um...I'm guessing you came back to help with the darkness and that's great. It's fantastic." he struggled with his next words, "But you've been gone a long, long time."

Chelsea felt her eyes burn as he continued. "There is so much crap that has gone down on the Earth for thousands of years. I mean, plagues, wars, slaughters..." he eyed the witch who by now was leaking from the eyes, "Slavery and segregation. And you were writing books and going to fan conventions? Were you aware or did you just tune it out?"

"I was aware Dean." Chuck said softly.

The witch sniffled and looked up, "So you ignored us? You did nothing? Prayers from people all over the world, prayers from people in pain." she shook her head, "Do you even hear them anymore?"

"I do. I-"

"People build churches and fight wars in your name." Deans voice cracked, "Yet you did nothing."

"You're frustrated. You both are, I get it."

"Do you?" Chelsea stood and her chair slid back, "Do you get people being snatched off their land and beaten until they break? Do you get women being raped and children being traded like livestock? Do you get that I watched that with my own eyes? That it _happened_ to _me_? That these evil petty things and more happened the world over?"

"Anna, I _do_ get it."

Hearing her given name made her freeze, but the tears kept falling. Chuck looked to each of them in turn, "I was real hands on for _ages_. I thought that if I kept stepping in, teaching and punishing, that these beautiful creatures I created would grow up." he sighed, "But they only stayed the same. I decided I needed to step away and let my baby find its way."

Dean wiped the tears from his face, "But it didn't get better." he gestured silently to Chelsea who looked down at her feet.

Another sigh, "From where I sit, it has."

The older Winchester didn't like that answer. "Well from where I sit, you abandoned us, and you're trying to justify it."

The witch had heard enough and decided to leave the room. Sam just watched in silence as she left and as Dean wiped his face again. He had no words. He just felt a little ashamed. Here he was, happy to meet God, father to all, savior. And his own brother's reaction was much more appropriate considering the circumstances.

He stood, "I'm going to check on Chelsea."

Dean stood and turned on his heal, "I got it."

The younger was left to twiddle his thumbs. He turned to Chuck and sort of shrugged, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. They're both valid in how they feel." he gestured to the chair Sam had been sitting in before, "Sit. Talk to me, Sam."

"I uh... I guess I have a question." he turned the gold ring, "You understand what Chelsea is right?"

"Of course."

"Then back there, in that town...did she really die?"

Chuck sighed, "She did. And I know that's something she wants more than anything, but she's not done here yet."

* * *

"Hey."

Chelsea wiped her cheeks and looked up at Dean as he lent his back on the wall across from her. She sat on the floor of the hallway with her back to her bedroom door. She just sort of grunted in response.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For his shit. He's got a lot to answer for."

"Maybe like why I'm not dead right now?"

"Well, you can't die."

"Dean." her voice was even, serious, and she looked him in the eye, "I died. I'm sure of it."

Something seemed off, so he asked, "So are you upset that you died? Or upset that you were brought back?"

"I'm upset because it didn't seem right." she looked back down at the floor, "Am I just supposed to be alone in the dark?"

"Maybe Amara trapped your soul or something." he felt as though he had to comfort her a little, "Maybe when the infected die that's where they go."

"Maybe..."

He maneuvered himself onto the floor across from her, "Don't dwell on it."

"Oh of course. Simple enough right?"

Her sarcasm wasn't lost on him and he chuckled, "Don't bite my head off."

"I'd need a detachable jaw to bite something so big."

Another chuckle as he got comfortable and put his head against the wall. Chelsea offered him a beer and he took it, confused, "How do you do that?"

"They're from the fridge." she stopped to take a sip, "I don't materialize things out of thin air, just move them from where they already are."

"Handy."

There were a few moments of silence before she said, "So?"

Dean raised a brow at the witch, "So?"

"This is awkward."

"I hadn't noticed."

The witch laughed, a real laugh for how short it lasted, "But thanks. I'm not actually that old, you know? But one would think with three hundred years under my belt I'd know that angels are a thing, Lucifer is a real guy, and God is a…hipster." she took another swig of beer, "I was having a bit of an existential crisis."

Dean smirked, "You literally can't die. How did you not put all that together?"

Chelsea put a hand over her face and chuckled, "Shut. Up."

This was better. Dean liked the snide sarcastic witch he and his brother met over the sullen suspicious one she was being lately any day. Although "like" may be a strong word. It _was_ a pretty awkward conversation but if he had let Sam come talk to her…

When he focused she was staring at him pretty intensely. Her eyes made him jump just a little, "What?"

"I heard what Deputy Harris said to you."

 _"Everything's going away. But not you, Dean."_

And there went the moment, "Yeah, and?"

Chelsea stared at him a second longer. This _connection_ with Amara bothered her. Just something about it felt dangerous. "You know what, I'm gonna go to bed." Maybe it was best to let it go. After all, what was this common knowledge gonna do for anyone?

She stood and opened her door, looking over her shoulder as Dean rolled his eyes and stood, beer still in hand. "Tell Sam I said goodnight."

Her door closed just as the younger Winchester rounded the corner, "Hey."

"Yeah."

"Where did you get the beer? Where's Chelsea?"

Dean glanced down at the bottle before rubbing his forehead, "Headed to bed."

"She ok?"

"She's fine, Sam."

"You guys were gone for a while. I thought–"

"I said she's fine, Sam." he walked past his little brother some before asking, "Chuck?"

"Taking a shower.

"God showers?"

"I guess so."

As his older brother passed him, Sam turned on his heal, "I'm sorry Dean."

"I know."

* * *

"Morning."

The Winchester's were already awake. Had been for some time as Chelsea approached. With a slight clunk, two coffee cups appeared. They thanked her as she smiled at them, sitting cross legged in the middle of the table, "Hows it going?"

"I got nothing." Sam answered.

Dean grunted and Chelsea could only pout. Trying to find God's sister felt more and more like wasting time. "For once I wish Rowena was here." Sam continued.

"Excuse me?"

"I mean, she could find Amara. She has before." He rushed to cover as Chelsea was clearly offended.

"Like I don't feel useless as it is." She mumbled.

"She and the book are going to stay hidden until this is over."

"Right. Powerful I'll give her but brave..." the witch rolled her eyes and trailed off. She scanned the room for a moment before she asked, "Where's Chuck?"

Sam shrugged, "Sleeping in?"

"God sleeps?" Dean asked.

"Apparently. I know he takes the longest showers."

"And sings at the top of his damn lungs." the witch added, exasperated.

"Right!" Dean agreed with her, "And like, crappy folk songs. I had to tell him to cool it like three times."

"You told God to cool it?"

Dean was unfazed, "Look, I need to sleep too."

Sam and Chelsea shared a look and the later chuckled into her coffee as the former sat back from the computer and crossed his arms, "Hey! Morning."

Chuck shuffled in with a pink box in one arm, coffee, and a donut in the other. While the witch held out her hand for the box Dean scrutinized him. "Is that my robe?"

God didn't answer, instead saying, "Do we have any bacon?"

Dean went a bit wide eyed and looked at the witch, pouting. She glanced up from the donuts and shook her head, "I'm not making bacon appear."

Sam smiled and shook his head as Chuck shrugged. But looking down at his computer screen changed his expression instantly, "Guys...it looks like that fog hit another town." he sighed as he read a little, "And this one wasn't as lucky as the last one. Thousands died. Everybody but one man."

Dean shook his head and turned to Chuck, "How'd you miss that one?"

"She's baiting me. I can't respond every time. I won't be manipulated." was his answer.

"Wow." the witch scooted to the edge of the table and stepped down to the floor. "Thousands of people died and you 'won't be baited'."

"Yes, exactly." was the rather indignant answer. Chelsea crossed her arms and the brothers looked on slightly slack-jawed. Chuck made eye contact with each of them as he stood to leave, "Just find her."

The witch threw her hands up with a scoff once he was gone.

Dean shook his head and Sam pushed back from the table, "Let's just get going."


	12. He'd Be A Dick (Part 2)

**Chapter 12**

 **He'd Be A Dick. (Part 2)**

* * *

" _I think it would be best if just the two of you go."_

 _Dean shook his head, "No, you're not staying here."_

" _Dean. Cmon, she's not going to go anywhere."_

" _She better not."_

Chelsea wasn't so sure it was a good idea to take three people on a trip to question and recruit one man. She didn't really care to be out in the world anyway. In all honesty, she was beginning to no longer care about stopping Amara.

"Anna! You didn't go with the boys?"

Chuck's excited greeting wasn't really something she was in the mood for. "No. I did not...obviously."

"Anna-"

"My name is Chelsea." She cut him off.

Chuck sighed and approached the table, moving to the chair across from hers. "That was _her_ name. Yours is Anna."

She laughed a little in disbelief at his matter of fact tone and put the book she was reading up to her face, blocking him from view.

"Talk to me. I want to help you through this."

The witch knew she should continue to ignore him; read her book and mind her business. But the fucking audacity... "Through what exactly?"

"Her death."

"Her murder." She corrected.

"Of course."

She scoffed and put the book back up, "I _am_ through it." She looked over the top of the small red book and her eyes narrowed in a glare, "But thanks, _Chuck_."

God decided he would try again; new subject. "What about this? Your quest for death?"

A sigh from behind the book, "What about it?"

"Why?"

"Like you don't know. Oh wait, you don't. I forgot you said you don't listen to prayers."

"I hear them. But I'm not in the business of answering prayers for death."

"Or any for that matter..."

"I don't expect you to understand. This is complicated and delicate."

Chelsea nodded obnoxiously, still attempting to read although she'd been on the same sentence the entire time because of the distraction, "Sure sure, it's been complicated since about the seventeenth century? Maybe even before then. You created something you can't control so you stepped away, like a coward, I get it." she snapped the book closed and put it on the table, standing, "Chuck, I stopped believing in you a _very_ long time ago. You standing before me doesn't change that. Especially since I'm still un-killable and still probably going to hell…"

She drifted to gauge his reaction. He just sighed like a sad father faced with an indignant child. She smirked, "Right. God stands before me and is still useless."

"Faith in me makes things happen." he tried.

The witch turned on her heel and approached him in three short steps, she got in close to his face and said evenly, "Faith in you is blind and dumb."

He started to say something, his eyes seeming to water just a touch as he felt _something_ but Chelsea was unfazed and stopped him, "I am uninterested in giving a fuck about how you feel."

"Chelsea." he called out to her once she was clear across the room, into the library and approaching the archway to the hall. She stopped at the sound of her name, the one she felt she owned and owed _._ "I'm sorry."

She didn't turn around, "Little late for that don't you think?"

* * *

"I don't think we should have left them alone." Sam turned to his brother as they neared the bunker. He'd been thinking about it since they'd left, although he'd advocated for Chelsea's want to stay.

From the backseat a worried, "Them?"

Dean chuckled, "What exactly are you worried about them doing, Sam?"

"She hates him, Dean."

"Who's she?" again, from the backseat.

A sigh, "Look, I'm frustrated with the guy too but it's not-"

"This is deeper Dean. Imagine feeling how you feel about him if you've been alive for three hundred years. It just festers."

"Will someone answer me please?"

An older man was in the backseat, a round academia type. He was the man who'd survived Amara's last attack, who also proved to be a Prophet once the Winchesters heard the full story and tested him.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Our witch."

"Our _friend_." Sam corrected.

"You know witches too?" the man's voice shook as he asked.

"You could handle God, God's Sister and Lucifer but not a witch?"

It was then that the man, Donatello, noticed they'd stopped. "This is the place isn't it? He's here isn't he?"

The brothers looked at each other, more than ready for this to be over. Just as Dean exited the car and closed his door Chelsea appeared before him looking relieved, "I really should have gone with you guys. Can we go now?"

Donatello was unnerved and climbed from the car with Sam's mostly reluctant help, "I-is that her?"

"Yeah. That's her."

Dean put his hands up, "What happened? How did you know we're not staying?"

She motioned behind him, across the car, to Sam, "Something about a meeting with a transformer. Right?"

Sam glanced at the ring then back at the witch and his brother, "Um…"

"I'll be in the car."

The older Winchester rubbed his face, "I really don't have time for this."

"I told you it wasn't the best idea."

Dean took a deep breath and clenched his fists, "Let's just get this over with."

After some awkward moments in the bunker, getting Donatello settled and failing to get anything out of Chuck about the witch's behavior, the brothers headed back up to the car. Chelsea was still waiting patiently in the backseat…sort of. She had her hands in her hair and looked utterly exhausted. When the guys got into the car she looked up and asked, "So what's this meeting?"

Dean didn't mind being back on track at all so he answered, "We're going to talk to Metatron, with a 'T'."

"So, not a transformer."

"An angel."

"Makes more sense. But why?"

"He has information about Chuck that we apparently need to know."

She sat back in the seat and rubbed her head, "Chuck…"

Sam looked over his shoulder, "What happened?"

Chelsea sighed, "He asked me about Chelsea."

Both men were thoroughly confused but only Dean looked up into the rearview, making brief eye contact to ask, "What do you mean?"

The witch glanced at him, "She's where I got my name."

"Who was she?" the younger asked.

"A girl I killed."

* * *

"Barkeep, tres margaritas! Top shelf vodka."

Amazingly, the brothers didn't push the issue of Chelsea murdering someone; seemingly of her own will with how she'd said it. At least not yet. It was a little late game to worry about that when so far she hadn't given off murderous intent beyond being ordered to. It didn't mean that both of them _weren't_ going to ask though. It was just a matter of when is the right time when the world might be ending anyway.

Again, Chelsea was underwhelmed by yet another "person" the Winchester's spoke of. She could tell from the general vibe and what she could feel almost too strongly from Sam that they didn't like him. It made her hesitant but not so much so that she didn't seize the first completed, although pale green looking, margarita and shrug at the brothers when they looked at her incredulously.

"I need this drink." she said plainly.

"Ah, the witch Ann- I mean, _Chelsea_ of course." Metatron regarded her with his usual uncomfortably knowing wry smile.

She cocked an eyebrow and looked him up and down, drinking from her cup the entire time and wordlessly moved behind Sam, uncomfortable under the angel's gaze.

"So Sam has the ring. Makes sense."

She almost spat out the straw and stepped forward, Sam used his body to block her.

"Leave her alone, Metatron."

"What is it you wanted to tell us?" Dean changed the subject and shooed away the guy sitting next to the angel. "And don't pull any crap."

Metatron rolled his eyes and raised his hands theatrically, "And what variety of crap could I possibly pull? I've lost my grace...I've got nothing."

Neither brother really cared and Chelsea was hardly listening; instead watching as the bartender placed a second and third drink before them. Dean pushed his away, "Just get on with it."

"Well I noticed you've been in touch with _Chuck,_ AKA You Know Who." The angel drawled.

Out of some strange instinct Sam mindlessly slid his glass over to the witch who traded it for the one she just finished. It was gross, but it was alcohol. "Yes, Chuck agreed to take on Amara." Again, another urge and he reached across the angel and grabbed Dean's glass, handing it to the witch also.

Dean watched this with some curiosity but needed to focus on the conversation. Chelsea however was in a much better mood, more or less swinging her feet on the barstool next to Sam and paying, now, zero attention to what was happening.

Metatron raised a brow, "He said that? Chuck said he'd _help_? Used those exact words?"

"Pretty much." the older answered.

"Huh."

The brothers looked at each other and Sam asked, "What? What is that? Is he _not_ confronting Amara?"

"Oh no, no no no. He's going to meet with her."

" _Meet_ with her?" the witch finally chimed in. "And what? Annoy her into submission?"

She scoffed into the glass and Dean reached over and tapped his brother, gesturing to her. Sam gave her a glance but she was back in her drink, now grabbing the third and final glass.

Metatron's sigh pulled their attention, "He's going to meet with her… and sacrifice himself. Let her do whatever she wants with him."

"Do you really expect us to buy this?" Sam asked.

The angel grinned, "No." and reached for a ratty satchel at his side. He dropped easily about 500 pages on the bar, "Here. Buy this." The thud pulled the witch's attention and she leaned into Sam to see the stack of paper he grabbed.

' _God. An autobiography.'_ Was typed clearly on the front. She rolled her eyes and went back to choking down the last of the horribly pre-mixed margaritas.

He glanced at her, third glass was almost empty but he didn't pay it too much mind as Metatron continued, "It's in his words. Read it." another sigh, "It's not an autobiography. It's a suicide note."

Sam flipped it open, then realized it was a lot to read. something in Metatron's voice…something about it sounded like the truth. He closed it and slid it back over the angel, taking a chance to make eye contact with his brother, "I don't need to read it."

"You believe me."

Dean stood, "I think we should talk to Chuck."

The witch groaned at the sound of his name and Dean flared his nose slightly in irritation. "Let's go Sam."

"What about me?" Metatron turned on his stool as Sam stood and took Chelsea by the arm, mostly pulling her off the stool, as gently as possible but firmly. Apparently three hundred years did little for her tolerance, although she did pound three drinks that were more alcohol than they were margarita mix.

Dean huffed, "We'll uh…be in touch."

He moved quickly to the door, Sam behind him, still guiding Chelsea by the arm. With a last glance before leaving he was satisfied with Metatron waving down the bartender again. Once they arrived at the car he whipped around, "What the hell was that?"

Chelsea shook her head, "Me?"

"Who else just drank three shitty margarita's in twenty minutes?"

She shrugged and sort of raised her hands, her speech not quite slurred, but very relaxed and slow, " _You_ weren't going to drink them."

He was done with her and asked his brother, "And why did you give them to her?"

"What?"

"Sam!"

Then he remembered. It was involuntary almost, just this oddly natural urge to hand them over. Chelsea pat his arm, raising her hand, "I did that."

"Excuse me?"

In her current state she didn't quite get why Dean was so upset, "Suggestion. You know, the ring? My connection with Sam? I told him it would get worse…" she drifted off to yawn and take the last few steps to the car, "Are we going?"

She climbed into the backseat, stretching across it and not closing the door. Dean was fuming and stepped closer to his brother, "Get that under control." he pointed to his brother's hand.

"It's fine Dean."

"Fine?" He hissed, "She's suggesting shit to you and damn near reading your mind!" He tried to keep his voice low but he was so annoyed. After what they'd just heard the last thing he needed was to babysit a witch. Especially when she was supposed to be being useful.

Sam sighed, "She's in pain, Dean."

"I don't care-"

"You should." the younger interrupted him, "I can feel it. Whatever Chuck said to her or brought up, it hurt."

Dean lent his head back and tried to calm down. After a moment he stepped back and towards the car, "Fine. We're not leaving them alone together anymore. And you find out what the fuck that's about." he motioned to her the shook his head, climbing into the car. Leaving Sam to tuck the rest of the witch into the backseat and close the door.

He went around and got in, giving his brother a rather weak reassuring nod, "It'll be fine."


	13. Ball and Chain

**Chapter 13**

 **Ball and Chain**

* * *

"Is this where I get reprimanded for my behavior?"

Chelsea entered the kitchen to an annoyed Dean who was sipping a beer and not necessarily glaring at her but staring intensely. It was about noon and she had just woken up. He didn't answer so she crossed her arms and changed the subject, "You talk to Chuck?"

"I did."

Good. He was just as uninterested in talking about her attitude last night as she was, "And?"

He watched her go about making coffee, her back to him, then took another sip of his beer, "He's sticking to his plan."

"Hm."

"You don't seem to really care."

She shrugged, looking over her shoulder, "I don't. It's about time he did _something_ and sacrificing himself sounds fine to me."

"And after?"

Chelsea tried not to roll her eyes as she turned, a spoon stirring her coffee on it's own while she rubbed her forehead. What happened to her ally in thinking Chuck was an asshole? "After what, Dean?"

"When he's gone and the world _really_ doesn't have him?"

She raised an eyebrow at him, "How will it be any different than now? Or the last thousand years or so?" She had a point. Which Dean didn't like, but he wouldn't say so. He looked down into the bottle.

"That's not what you wanted to hear." Chelsea sounded a little at a loss, almost like she felt bad for saying it and saying it so harshly. For a moment Dean wondered if she was in his head too but dismissed it; it must have just been all over his face. "Look. I don't have anymore faith in Chuck." she started, "But I think my situation is...unique. Most witches didn't start their lives with a faith in God you know?"

He looked up, now she was doing what he was just doing; staring down into her coffee cup like it would give her some answers.

"I don't know if I have complete faith in him..." Dean trailed off as she looked at him, the slightest interest in her green eyes, "But I don't like his plan."

He was doing that thing again. The no-nonsense take charge thing that made her uncomfortably drawn to him. Her spine tingled and she took a sip of coffee to distract herself. She didn't look up from the cup as she asked, "I take it you have a better plan?"

He turned and walked to the fridge, grabbing two more beers. "I do. My original plan."

The witch's brow furrowed as he left the kitchen. Original plan? She shrugged, she really had to start paying more attention.

When she entered the main room he placed one of the beers on the table, drawing Donatello's attention and handing him the other. Chelsea had forgotten he was here as well and felt a bit more guilty about her attitude than she did before.

"Donatello right?"

He was a bit flustered and fumbled his beer a bit to shake the hand she extended. Dean watched the exchange; her smile was pleasant and warm. He hadn't really seen it yet and he could see Donatello finally relax amongst all these strangers.

Chelsea felt his gaze and glanced at him, his ears turned red and he looked elsewhere, clearing his throat.

She chuckled just a little as the door opened and almost immediately Dean was back to being surly. An annoyed looking Sam came in behind a Metatron who was looking rather pleased with himself. Chelsea took a seat and busied herself with her cup.

"Alright Metatron, make it quick." Sam brushed past and took a seat across from the witch before grabbing his beer.

The ex-angel approached the table with a loud, "Dean! Thanks for inviting me."

"Inviting you? You've been circling the building all night. You sent me 200 text messages with dumbass emojis."

Chelsea snorted into her coffee cup which moved his attention to her, "Chelsea, hopefully we'll get to talk this time. You were so quiet last night. A little distant."

She knitted her eyebrows together and said plainly "No thank you."

He gave up easily and moved onto the newcomer, once again excited and too loud, "Donatello! Pleasure to meet you. I'm Metatron, scribe of god. "

Despite the witch putting him at ease with her kindness, Metatron's specific brand of kindness unnerved him. But he shook his hand anyway.

Dean took charge of the situation, as usual, "Look, you said you wanted help. Besides world-class douchery, what do you have to offer?"

The angel was mostly unbothered, "Oh I just transcribed the angel tablet and know all the spells. And I know what makes Amara tick. _And_ I had a relationship with the big guy for eons! Should I keep going?"

He finally moved to take his seat and at the same time went to swipe the beer on the table. When it slid just out of his reach and damn near across the table he immediately looked up at the witch who smiled and pointed at Sam, "That's his beer."

Metatron got comfortable in the seat, "You guys need all the help you can get."

"You didn't use to give a damn." Dean started, "Why help now?"

"Well, I didn't care at one time." The ex-angel admitted, "But now that he's gone all kamikaze, leaving us with the darkness…" he sighed deeply, "I was by his side since the creation. He believed in me. If theres something I can do to help save him _and_ his creation, then I should."

Dean nodded after a moment. Then made eye contact with every person at the table, "The plan is to rescue Lucifer from Amara. Then he teleports us out of Amara's hideout and we convince Chuck to use him to fight her."

Metatron chuckled in disbelief, " _That's_ your plan?"

Chelsea hated agreeing with him but she did, "The confidence is endearing, really. But you seriously expect that to work just like that? We don't even know where she is."

Donatello raised his hand, "I think I might know where she is. I've been getting this vibe; like a ping in my cerebral cortex."

The witch squinted at him as the scribe said, "So either Amara or a stroke."

Chelsea's gaze moved back to Dean who was still looking rather serious. "What exactly is your plan for keeping her busy?" She had an inkling, but she wanted to hear him say it.

He looked nervous, his gaze wavering from her. She sat back in her chair, "I thought so. I'm going with you."

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat and she held up a hand to stop the protest before it came, "He _cannot_ go alone. That's just not smart. I don't care what kind of connection they have, she could kill him."

She was right, of course.

"So you'll be?"

"Escape plan A." she sighed and pushed her coffee away, "I know I don't get to make the decision. But Sam doesn't want you to go alone either."

Another uncomfortable shift. And correct again. "I thought you said you couldn't take passengers when you…disappear."

"I can't. But with the right spell on deck I can send someone anywhere. Thing is it has to be done in person."

"She'll sense you."

Chelsea looked Dean in the eye, "Then I'll go with Sam to start. If something happens I'll be there."

"No reading my thoughts."

"You won't be wearing it long enough for that connection. In the end, If you don't want the backup, go alone."

The brothers looked at each other across the table. Sam lent forward and brought up both hands, pulling the ring off, pausing to look at it, then offering it to his big brother.

Dean scoffed, "I'm not wearing a ring."

Chelsea snapped her fingers and a gold chain appeared looped through the gold signet ring. He huffed and reached across the table, taking the ring by the chain. She took a deep breath as he brought the chain over his head and tucked the ring down into his shirt; pushing back from the table she said, "I'll go get dressed."

* * *

Sam rubbed his bare hand as they climbed out of the car, "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

All three of the rest of the car doors closed as everyone joined him and the witch didn't answer. When he looked to her, away from the large silo, she was somewhere else, gaze blank.

"Chelsea?"

She shook her head, "Sorry. What?"

"Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Would it have been better to send your bother out there alone?"

He nodded at her good point and slowly approached the gate. Chelsea watched his back and tried to focus. She was getting complete radio silence from him. He was still pretty easy to read just as a person, but as soon as he'd handed the ring to Dean, it was like she'd been shut out of his head. But she could feel the other Winchester in every appendage she had. The very tips of her fingers were tingling and she swore she could feel every cell of blood pumping through her body.

Sam took one more glance at her. He felt nothing, no uneasiness or worry, not even the slight pressure at the base of his skull that developed after a few weeks. When the ring left his hand, everything was quiet, maybe even a little cold.

"Is he with her?" he asked over his shoulder, pausing.

Her expression was very solemn and serious, "Yeah."

He nodded and walked inside the silo. It was vast and smelled of mildew. Castiel's body was magically fastened to some old machines; his face caked in dry blood and wounds. He, Lucifer of course, spoke with an out-of-place mirth as they neared, "Oh goody. Search and rescue?"

Chelsea found herself trailing behind, slowing to a stop not too far from the entrance. It was getting a little hard to breathe and her head was spinning a little. She couldn't tell what Dean was thinking. It came to her like shifting smudges. Her heart was beating so hard, although not necessarily fast.

"You brought almost the whole gang!" Again, more forced mirth from the Devil. He made eye contact with the witch when she looked up, "No hard feelings for the neck snapping right?"

She didn't answer.

Sam put his hands in his pockets as Metatron examined Lucifer's predicament, figured which spells to use, "Cut the small talk. We're busting you out of here."

"Well that seems fair," he started, "Since I wouldn't be here if you lunatics didn't set me up to be captured anyway."

That wasn't the case, it wasn't purposeful, but he was right anyway. It was their fault he was here.

"Our fault or not," Sam started, "you're going to help us take her down. If you say no, we'll just leave you here?"

Lucifer chuckled painfully, "Say no? Do you see what she's done to me? Do I look like a fan?!" He finished angrily.

Chelsea crossed over to Sam in almost two steps, sort of stumbling, and grabbed his arm tightly. Her head was pounding. He looked to her, took in her pained expression, but when she continued to say nothing he gently moved from her grasp and continued to address Lucifer.

"You understand you'll be working with your father? Will that be a problem?"

"That's family…this is bigger." was the answer.

Sam nodded. Metatron muttered some latin then almost shouted some words here and there. "Are we getting any closer? Dean can't stall forever."

"He's wavering." the witch said, touching the side of her pounding head. She didn't know what Amara was saying to him, but it had the older Winchester reeling. It was just as she feared, her connection with him was too strong and almost too much.

Then it floated in…his voice, " _…I can't control it."_

Chelsea squeezed her eyes shut and felt the world shift around her. It was involuntary though as she wasn't quite sure she was actually called. Something about what she'd felt; there was a touch of panic and fear.

She opened her eyes to forest scenery and oddly felt Dean in every direction. It was Amara, throwing off her trajectory, magically scrambling her location with the hunter. The witch tried to cut the world out, cut Dean out, and focus solely on the magic of her prison, her ring.

It made her head hurt worse, her stomach flopped, her breath was short…

"C'mon…"

There! A small thread in her vision that pulsated just slightly, it grew just a touch stronger as Dean forced his way in, intentionally or not; an aura of panic lit the thread aglow and she followed it.

She stumbled into a large tree and gathered herself quickly, pushing away and moving at a run again.

Dean and Amara appeared before her in a small clearing as if a curtain had been lifted, "Dean!"

They both looked to her but Amara disappeared. When she neared she still couldn't really catch her breath and her heart was still drumming in her ears, "W-what happened?"

"I didn't call you!" He didn't shout, just seemed surprised.

"I know." she pushed the heel of her palms into her eyes, "What the hell is this?"

"…I…" Dean didn't know what to tell her.

She reached out with one hand, looking for all the world like she would collapse. Darkness was creeping into the edges of her vision and Chelsea wasn't so sure it was anything to do with Amara.

"Can you do the spell?" he asked her.

"T-.." she stumbled a little, "Translatio ad ali-" The witch drifted forward into the hunter's arms, the spell incomplete. Even still just as he caught her, the bunker appeared around them both.

Chuck looked over them with a slight worry as Dean's eyes darted around the room, "What happened?"

"Everyone is here." he assured, "I felt you two were still out there and I…" he looked on sadly as the man lifted the witch into his arms.

"She just…collapsed." the hunter tried.

Chuck reached out to her forehead, a light emanating. Chelsea opened her eyes, looking dizzy even still as she took them both in and passed out yet again. "What the hell?"

"Nothing to heal. At least, nothing _I_ can heal."

Dean didn't like the sound of that, "Sam!"

"You're back!" His relief was gone when he noticed the witch, "What happened?"

"She just-"

"Collapsed." Chuck finished. "She'll be fine. Just needs some rest."

Sam approached his brother with open arms to take the woman. He was met with an "I got it." as Dean moved around him. He followed closely.

"Did she say anything?"

"She seemed a little out of it when she got to me. Tried to do the spell, passed out halfway through."

"She was having a hard time before she disappeared." the younger studied his brother with careful eyes, "Did you call her?"

"No."

They arrived at her room and Sam opened the door, the warm smell of incense greeted them and they ducked hanging planters filled with sprawling greenery to put her in bed. Sam would feel better if she at least _looked_ peaceful…

He started on a new subject, "Lucifer is here."

"And?" Dean continued, watching the witch roll over uncomfortably as he reached into his shirt.

"Metatron sacrificed himself."

There wasn't much answer to that. It was both shocking and not; given what he'd said, he seemed ready to make such a move.

"What are you doing?" the younger asked.

Dean had brought the golden chain over his head and slipped the ring off. "I can't keep this thing." he put the ring in his little brother's hand and put the chain back around his neck, tucking it into his shirt.

Sam clenched it in his fist immediately. Almost relieved to have it again. But he didn't feel the witch right away and tried to push the disappointed feeling down.

"C'mon."

Dean left the room without looking back and Sam stayed back for a beat. But a touch too long to make his brother come back to the room and say sternly, "Let's go, Sam."

He slid the ring on his finger and took another glance back at her as he left, just as Chelsea's expression eased and she relaxed into the bed.


	14. Shit Happens

**Chapter 14**

 **Shit Happens**

* * *

"What the fuck is with the racket?" Chelsea managed to finally venture from her room almost a day later when loud rock music not only pulled her from sleep but agitated her already pounding headache.

Sam and Dean were outside of Sam's room, where Lucifer locked himself inside and turned the stereo as loud as it would go. The brothers looked up to answer her but immediately looked away when they noticed she was in a tank top that was skewed from sleep and a pair of pristine white underwear.

Before they could gather themselves the music turned down and Lucifer shouted, "If Dad has something to say to me I'll hear it from him! Until then I'll be in my room."

The music turned back up just as Sam huffed, "It's _my_ room." Before banging on the door one more time.

Dean was over it and turned toward the witch. As he approached, trying so hard to focus on her face, he asked, "You alright?"

She waved a hand, "Totally fine. Besides," she motioned to the door, "you know."

She didn't _look_ fine. Her eyes were puffy and dark, her curls were sleep tousled and tangled, she even looked a little pale. It was also the first time the Winchesters had laid eyes on her in almost thirty-six hours.

"I'm hungry." she mumbled, "You guys smell pancakes?"

Sam chuckled softly as he approached as well and held her upper arm gently, she looked a bit like she would collapse again, "Go put on pants."

"Right." she shuffled back off down the hall and into her room.

Dean sighed, "We gonna address that at any point?"

"The underwear?" Sam tried.

"I was thinking her being more work than help."

Sam was afraid that's what he meant. He wanted to argue otherwise; that Chelsea was a valued asset, but that honestly had yet to be seen. On an average day, average hunt, she had been stellar. But now...

"I did say I wasn't powerful enough to fight her." The witch brushed past the brothers.

"Thats not really the point." Dean said as he followed her, Sam trailing behind and feeling bad that she'd heard.

"Then what is?" She asked without looking back.

"You couldn't even handle being around her."

She whirled around faster than expected for someone in her state and glared at him, "No, _you_ couldn't handle being around her."

"It was your idea to get me out of there!"

"And she fucked up my trajectory on purpose! I was nowhere near you when I landed and that's not my fault! Neither is your literal fatal attraction to her!"

Dean didn't like that, "What was with the amplified response to me then? You can't put that on me."

Chelsea looked down at her feet then immediately back up again, scoffing "You know what, that _was_ my bad because I knew it would be like that. But excuse me if I thought you being around her alone was the dumbest possible idea."

The hallway was spinning but they didn't need to know that. She put a hand on her head and walked into the kitchen. Chuck glanced over his shoulder, "Ah, you're up!"

"Barely."

"What do you mean you _knew_ it would be like that?"

Chuck once again looked over his shoulder, "Good morning."

Dean couldn't be bothered and Sam sort of replied with his expression as he sat down. Chelsea looked exhausted and put her forehead on the table as she sat.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"Sam, make her talk."

"I'm not going to do that, Dean."

"That's very unfair, Dean."

Both Sam and Chuck replied to him and he scoffed, sitting between Sam and the Witch, side-eyeing her.

"I felt that." She said without lifting her head, the words muffled into the table.

The brothers looked at each other and Sam flexed his hand. Chuck stepped away from his pancakes to take in the three. He put his hands on his hips, "While it is unfair of them to _make_ you talk, don't you think they deserve to know more about you given your partnership?"

Chelsea lifted her head, "Are you talking to me?"

He raised both hands in a light gesture and turned back to the griddle, "Secrets and mysteries will only make it harder for you to work together. Maybe tell them about her."

The witch glared at the back of his head, causing him to chuckle, "I felt that."

"I don't want to talk about her."

"You should pick a topic. Either you talk about her, or you talk about him and what he has to do with Dean."

She was getting the strangest looks from the hunters. She could sense they wanted to know about Him, especially Dean. But she really wasn't ready to go there.

"Fine. _Her_ it is."

Chuck offered each of them a plate with three pancakes and lent onto the counter, smiling.

Chelsea sighed, "I had to kill a however-many-great niece of mine for reasons and felt bad so I took her name. Happy?"

"Awfully vague." Chuck answered.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

Another sigh, she guessed she should just tell it right. "At some point in the fifties I looked for and found my half brother's family, my mother's son, born after me." she paused to reach for the syrup, "I started watching from a distance, guiding subtly whenever I could. They were very religious, the whole family. After a while their awareness of me was misguided into thinking I was the family guardian angel."

Chuck cleared his throat as she continued, "In the early nineties Chelsea was born and just like almost every family member before her I was there for her birth. But I didn't think to single her out much until she was about fifteen." the witch chuckled almost wistfully, "For being a half-niece and so many generations down, she looked way too much like me."

Sam and Dean glanced at each other, her voice was getting sadder and sadder and she just poked at her pancakes.

"She was a lot _like_ me too. She fought against her christian upbringing for no real reason other than she knew there was more in the world. She studied the religions of the world and travelled whenever and however she could. I was so fascinated that I forgot to keep my distance and she found me. It was the first direct contact with a family member I'd had and she knew of me, the first child born to her however-many-great grandmother who was taken away. Yet somehow standing before her, just as young as she was...essentially."

"Did she ask you about witchcraft?"

"She did." Chelsea nodded sadly, "And I wouldn't teach her." she looked at Chuck, "I wanted her to broaden her mind but not forget her faith. As foolish as that was. If I _had_ taught her, she wouldn't have done what she did."

This time Dean asked, for once not gruff and annoyed, "What did she do?"

"Made a deal with a demon. Signed over her body and soul for power." a tear escaped and she quickly wiped it away, "I confronted her, which didn't do much. She was scared, angry and confused and the demon wouldn't get out..."

"You killed her."

"I did." she wiped a few more tears. "Demon to witch contracts can't be broken and the demon can't be expelled. So I had to kill her and leave her. Another casualty of the dangerous streets of Baltimore; a victim of supposed gang violence." she said the last of it almost sarcastically.

"Demon killing blade." the older Winchester said.

A silent nod, "Looked like she was stabbed as she was walking somewhere. I hadn't needed to use that blade in years."

"I'm so sorry." Sam offered.

"You aren't who I need an apology from." She glared at Chuck but didn't wait for him to say anything, "I prayed for the first time in a hundred or so years, asking God to help her keep her faith. By some miracle her family's faith had stayed strong up until her so I thought, just this once, he'd listen to me if it wasn't a prayer for myself. That wasn't the case though, huh Chuck?"

She stood, "They were just getting by on dumb luck."

Chuck sighed "You want what everyone wants, Lucifer included, an apology."

Her smile was one of delirious disbelief, "And you can't just give us one?"

He sighed instead of answering so she just turned and left the kitchen. Sam rubbed his hand, her sadness weighing on his shoulders. Somehow, next to him, it seemed Dean was feeling the same.

"Wow Chuck," he started, "is it that hard to say sorry?"

"It was tragic, but I can't apologize when I'm not sorry."

"So she's going to stay angry and so is Lucifer." Sam stepped in.

Chuck sort of shrugged and turned back to the griddle. Turning it off. "We'll go nowhere like this."

"Apologizing to her isn't going to fix anything."

"Lucifer then. We _need_ him and he won't help until you say you're sorry."

Still Chuck idly shook his head, "He just needs time to cool off."

"How much time do you think we have?" Dean asked incredulously, "The end is fucking nigh."

Chuck sighed heavily and seemed to consider it. Sam interjected, "And Chelsea?"

"She'll be ok."

The brother's looked at each other. That didn't seem very likely.

* * *

"I'm fine." Chelsea opened her bedroom door to both men looking rather sheepish.

"Are you sure?" Sam asked, not at all surprised that she knew they were there. They hadn't even knocked yet.

"Chuck was being a real asshole." Dean followed.

She gave them a half hearted smile, "Getting an apology won't bring her back, it won't rewind time..."

"Still."

A sigh, "It _would_ be nice. But I'm not going to dwell on it. Total waste of energy. Telling that story was mostly to shut him up. I've had yet another good cry about it, I'm set."

"Chuck said there was something else." Dean tried despite the now panicked look on his little brother's face at his prying, "About a _him_ and, well, me."

The witch put her hands in her pockets and looked at the ceiling, "Right... That is a story for if we survive all this mess."

"That's hardly fair." he followed up.

"Are you saying we're gonna die?"

"I'm saying we might and I want to hear this story."

She squinted at him, "Do you though?"

"Yes!" he looked to his little brother as if to ask 'don't you?' then back to Chelsea.

She walked into the hall, making the brothers back almost to the wall opposite. Her gaze bore into Dean for a moment then she looked at Sam. "You want to know?"

Sam shrugged, "I guess." But not really, honestly. He couldn't shake the subtle envy at it being about Dean. The ring tingled on his hand at the thought.

Chelsea rolled her shoulder like she'd felt something touching her and slowly turned to re-enter her room "And with that I stick to telling you only if we live."

"Dammit Sam!"

"Don't blame Sam for your desperate need of a distraction." She turned and leaned in the doorframe as she spoke.

The younger felt uncomfortable as they glared at each other. Dean broke first, turning and heading down the hall, "C'mon Sam."

The witch sighed, a little annoyed, as they rounded a corner, "I'll just, be here…" she called sarcastically after them.

If the truth were being told, Chelsea's annoyance was with her awareness of the burden she was laying on the brothers. When she started this, all of six weeks ago, she thought she had this whole thing figured out. No way she was going to get out of them taking her ring, so fine, put yourself in the middle. She figured she'd dick around some, be of at least some use, then finally die.

Amara was a big enough bad to actually come through with ending the world. No world to come back to equals permanent death.

But since she'd seen what her death would be like…

 _"Am I just supposed to be alone in the dark?"_

 _"Maybe Amara trapped your soul or something."_

And of course there was this growing _want_ to be useful, to win. She was afraid of a death that ended in that darkness again. The fear shook her focus, she was slacking and falling back into bad habits and these hunters were dragging her around.

Something needed to change.

She threw out an arm as the bed disappeared from beneath her. Thank god the magic around the ring somehow always made her land upright. And that Sam was paying attention and caught said arm with witch attached. But something was amiss...

"That wasn't you." she managed, realizing the magic that pulled her was not, in fact, the ring.

Chuck took a deep breath, "That was me. I'm sorry."

"Oh it's no big deal I just-"

"No. I mean, _I'm sorry._ "

"Excuse me?" she asked, still obviously confused

"Everyone gets an apology." Lucifer said with a grin.

Chelsea felt her heart pound and her throat clench up, "Why do I get the feeling you're not sorry about her?"

"Because i'm sorry for so much more than just that."

The feeling that lingered after that statement was that he was referring to not just her past. Still, nothing changed. She moved forward from here.

"Thank you." she looked around, "I take it we're ready to move forward with this thing?"

"We are." Dean answered, "Here's the plan."


	15. The End Of The World

**Chapter 15**

 **The End of the World (Alone In The Dark)**

* * *

"Ok so not only are we going with a subdue instead of a kill, but we're going about it with the Bad News Bears?" Chelsea walked around the large table and took a seat as Sam and Dean filed in behind her. They'd just returned from a little recruiting trip. The plan was laid, they go after Amara just like God and Lucifer had done before. But without arc angels, they had to improvise.

Dean went to Crowley, while she and Sam chatted with Rowena who was with a witch Chelsea had never met. Apparently Lucifer was sent off to speak to the angels with Castiel in tow.

"It's not the 'A' league but it's all we got." Sam suggested.

The woman took a deep breath, closed her eyes and shook her head. "Fuck it." she said, "What could go wrong?"

"I don't like it." Dean stood and walked halfway around the table. "I mean, why just trap her when you can kill her? There's a lot less room for error."

He seemed nervous and anxious. The witch regarded him carefully as Chuck said, "I explained why."

"Yeah, no her we face the same problem we're facing now. The universe needs their balance." Chelsea spoke up gesturing to Chuck. When he explained originally why they couldn't just kill her, she'd immediately understood. The idea of yin and yang and dark and light was an early magical teaching. You can't have things without their opposites, equivalent exchange and balance ruled everything.

Still, Dean's nervous gaze sort of darted around the table. Chelsea tried to hold it but he was a mess. "Ok, but why keep her in play? Just so she can escape and we have to do this again?"

He was being irrational. "Dean." the woman almost spoke to him like a child who was missing a simple concept. "With her rampaging, world ends. With her dead, world ends. How are you not understanding the middle ground?"

The panic deepened. And now Sam took notice. "What is this about?"

"Nothing." The older answered too quickly.

"It's about her." Lucifer spoke up, all too at ease while the literal rest of the table was worried. "It's about his girlfriend."

"Shut up." Dean tried to brush it off.

"Think about it." the unfazed 'angel' went on. "Dean Winchester meets the biggest evil in the universe and he takes a pass? Come on."

He just looked caught and at a loss as Chelsea continued to study him and Lucifer went on, "He just wants God or whoever else to do what he couldn't."

Sam was flustered, "Is he right?"

"I'm not getting into it with him."

"Then you can get into it with me." Chelsea stood and put both hands flat on the table. She held his gaze hard and dared him to look away, "I felt what you felt standing near her. And I've asked you before what it was about her and now I don't need you to tell me."

"I _tried_ to kill her." he said firmly. Holding her gaze a bit longer and finally breaking away to look at everyone else. "It didn't work."

Chuck sighed like a tired father, "It didn't work because you didn't want it to work."

"You want god to kill her because you don't want her dead? How does that make any sense?" Sam searched for clarification.

Dean sat down, "I guess there's a part of me that can't hurt her. But if she's already dead…"

"Then she's already dead." He looked at the witch as she spoke. When they held the gaze, the moment, this time it wasn't as hostile. But an awkward understanding.

Chelsea knew that's what she'd felt.

That almost obsessive connection. She'd felt it before.

"Dean." Sam's voice broke the haze, "We always sweat these choices." it seems he understood now too. "But for once we have God on our side. For once we can just do things his way."

The brothers had their own locked-eye exchange as Chuck stood. "Well, shall we?"

Everyone sort of shuffled and Sam grabbed Chelsea's arm, "Can I talk to you?"

"Sure." She felt his uneasiness and watched him as he watched everyone leave the room. It was the witch though who caught his brother taking one last glance back.

"If this works…" He drifted off, seeming to lose his nerve. He recovered and put a hand on her shoulder, "If this works I'm taking the mark of Cain."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Dean can't take it again and this is my way of stepping up. All of this, Amara being released, it's my fault."

"Sam," She gently maneuvered his hand off her shoulder, "That's nice and all but you can't keep my ring while you have that mark."

"And I know you don't want Dean to have it." he covered quickly, "I wanted to tell you I'll give it back to you and you can leave. If you want..."

His expression was a little solemn. A bit like a little kid who didn't want a guest to leave so soon. Chelsea took a deep breath, "Thank you. That's very thoughtful…" The witch left her gratitude hanging almost like a question. She couldn't help but remember her card read, her path and whatnot. Even if they won, who was to be sure this is all the path the cards meant? She looked over to be sure they were still the only ones in the room, "Does Dean know about any of this plan?"

A sigh, "No."

"And that's a good idea how?"

"I don't need him trying to change my mind."

"Or trying to stop you." she understood, but felt a little weird being in on such a secret though.

"You're aware I could die today." Chelsea was reminding Sam but also herself. She _had_ almost forgotten.

He nodded once, frowning, "Yeah, I know. You ok?"

She wasn't, but he didn't need to know that. And thank goodness his connection with the ring was still rebuilding, so he wouldn't feel that either. The witch decided on avoiding the question, "Not like I didn't know what I was signing up for right?"

Sam offered a half-hearted chuckle, "Yeah."

* * *

"Well you never mentioned we'd have to work with this one."

The witch Chelsea met earlier, Clea, put a protective hand on her back, "That's hardly fair. A sister witch is just that no matter how she came into the craft." she handed the woman a crystal, which she placed on the table, "No need to be jealous of how she came up."

"I didn't get up very far."

"Well if this works you should go on back to studying." Her warm southern accent was comforting in a way.

Chelsea didn't bump into Black witches often. Not to say they didn't exist. Their numbers were hardly half those of White or European witches, sure, but it was more a matter of them _usually_ being solitary practitioners. For _reasons_.

She nudged Chelsea, "What was that like anyway? Workin' under Nathaniel?" There were giggles from the other witches and she followed up with, "Ya'll are gonna turn green now!"

That made her chuckle, "A lot could have been different. But he was a good man..." Chelsea hadn't meant to drift off and tried to busy herself with painting the sigils on her arms.

"Well at the end of the day a white man is still a white man huh?"

"Unfortunately. Especially then."

"I see you're still under them." she was referring to the witch showing up with Sam.

Chelsea paused and almost felt sort of guilty. She liked the Winchesters fine and didn't really want to lump them in. But some things are just true. "Again, unfortunately."

Her discomfort didn't go unnoticed, "You have the power this time to make sure they do right by you. What Nathaniel did, making you a slave forever, that was careless. Make sure these two don't do anything just as careless."

"I will. Thank you."

The witch continued to regard Chelsea as she went back to covering every visible patch of skin with sigils for their spell. It was a power sharing spell. The four witches here would feed their power into her, she'd amplify it internally then share it with Rowena. It was usually done with a doll, a totem. But they needed more power than that could provide.

The "young" witch still looked troubled.

"Why don't you ask me what it is you want to ask?" Clea stood there knowingly; waiting.

Chelsea hesitated, knowing it may be a touchy subject for the other witch. "How is it you have faith in God?"

Clea had been the one to really convince Rowena. The redhead didn't believe the God story, and for good witchy reason. Clea then made it clear that she served both God and magic. A statement that both shocked and confused Chelsea.

"I know most of us lost faith or never had it in the first place." she took a deep breath, "But I believe that embracing the religions of the world; prayer, mediation, all of those things, can make you a stronger witch."

The woman thought about her namesake. Chelsea had wanted nothing more to explore the religions and belief systems of the world, but turned her back on Christianity to do so. "How do you keep them balanced?"

"They've got plenty in common. It ain't that hard to look at each one and simply choose what works for you; what brings you peace. God may not have been listening, or answering for that matter, but that faith I had in him was sometimes _all_ I had."

She started to say something but felt it, almost like a tap on her shoulder. Rowena was ready, "They're starting."

Clea smiled and entered the other room, "Alright sisters. Here we go."

She turned back to Chelsea, who hadn't moved and suddenly looked terrified.

 _"A battery?"_

 _"That's basically how it'll work. I take in the power, amplify it, then it gets channeled through Rowena."_

 _The brothers looked concerned, "That doesn't sound safe. Won't that hurt?"_

 _She chuckled nervously, "It won't be pleasant but given the alternative..."_

 _"Be careful."_

Chelsea shook the fear and moved to the center of the circle of witches, "Alright Rowena. We're ready."

* * *

"Where is she?"

"Does it matter?"

"Dean…"

The older brother huffed, "What Sam? Maybe she died. It's what she wanted anyway."

"She's not dead."

"Well she will be once the sun goes out right? World is ending, doubt she'll survive that…" He started, opening his fourth beer.

"She comes when called no matter what. That's what she told me. And she's not dead…"

"Sam…"

"Is it so wrong to worry about her? Even in these final moments, world ending, sun going out, we can't worry about our friend?"

Dean chuckled, "She may be _your_ friend."

"Fine. But she's been gone for almost three hours without so much as a peep and she shook off a bullet to the head in under three minutes."

"Three hours?" The boys turned to the witch who rubbed her eyes with both palms, "Damn, has it really been that long?"

"What happened?" Sam rushed over to her but Chelsea sort of waved him off.

"I should be asking you that. The sun is flickering like a fucking candle."

"Chuck is dying." Dean said as he finished the beer.

"So that explains why you're shotgunning beers? You just opened that."

"The world is ending, why die sober? Speaking of, this isn't going to be enough. Gonna do a run." He pointed at Sam who shook his head then he turned to Castiel, "C'mon Cass."

Once the older Winchester and angel left the kitchen Sam approached her, putting a hand on her arm, "What happened?"

"I-"

"Tea pot?"

Rowena entered the kitchen, her eyes widening for a moment at the sight of the other witch, "You survived."

"I can't die." Chelsea returned matter-of-factly.

"Ah, of course." she sort of teased, before walking past briskly to the stove where the kettle was already sitting on the back burner.

Sam enclosed his hand around her arm and gently pulled her into the hall and around the corner, "You're panicking." she noticed.

"I was."

"Sam-"

"Tell me what happened."

An order; he was getting good at that. And bold, interrupting her, "I think the spell backfired. Amara sent the magic back through Rowena to me and…"

"And?"

"The other witches that were with me. They died, horribly."

"Rowena was untouched." Sam sounded almost angry and she could feel his general irritation mounting.

Chelsea raised her hands in a calming gesture, "It's just how the spell works. She didn't trick anyone, I just took the brunt. I was out for a while."

"Right."

"You're seriously losing it, Sam. What happened?"

He took a deep breath, "Amara fought back somehow. Right at her weakest, the mark was there!" he gestured to his own arm and took another breath, trying to calm down. "Then I tried to call you but you weren't answering."

"I was sort of dead."

"I thought maybe you'd died for real."

"No. Thank god right? So to speak anyway, not that it makes much of a difference now."

"Thank god? I thought it's what you wanted?"

Damn. She was caught. "I only told Dean this," not the best way to start but it was only true, "I died for real when we faced Amara in Hope Springs. But it wasn't what I thought."

Sam decided against replying with an 'I know', having asked chuck after seeing her in such shock. "Hell?" is what he offered instead; although he did really want to know where she'd ended up. Her reaction said it was nowhere good.

"I'm not even offended that that's your first thought." she chuckled almost bashfully, "But no, it was just dark. Vast, dark, and quiet."

Sam's irritation immediately melted into concern again. He was really riding the emotional roller coaster here. "Have you asked Chuck-"

"No." this time she interrupted him, "There's really no need. Dean thinks maybe that's where souls of people Amara's killed go." she shook her head, "But it was too empty. I think, maybe, that's just where i'm supposed to end up. Purgatory maybe?"

Sam started to say something and she furrowed her brow, "What?"

"Dean's been to purgatory. Darkness isn't exactly what he described."

There was the conversational route of Dean having been to purgatory but the witch decided maybe now wasn't the time. More pressing matters and all, "It's not like I can stave off real death forever. If Chuck is really dying it's game over anyway."

"I don't think so."

"Oh?"

"We can still fight her."

"We definitely hit her with everything, Sam. What else is there?"

"Kill her."

"Not sure what difference that makes."

"She doesn't _get_ get to win."

Chelsea was impressed with his tenacity and directness. And here she took him for a softie; not to say that he wasn't. She crossed her arms and smirked, "Ok, _master,_ your move."


	16. The Likeliest Pair

**Chapter 16**

 **The Likeliest Pair**

 **A/N: Longer than usual. I HAD to get everything into one chapter….mainly just so the title made sense.**

* * *

"Wait, now you want to kill the darkness?" Dean and Castiel turned around and returned before even getting to the store. He stood there, still in his coat, looking a little like he'd rather have stayed on his mission for more end of the world liquor.

Chelsea leaned back in her seat and looked up at him, as he stood right behind her, "It's a more eloquent plan than it sounds. Hear him out."

Sam puffed his chest a bit more as Dean rolled his eyes but gave his brother his full attention. "With Chuck dying the scales are tipped to darkness," he started, "But if we kill Amara the scale is empty."

"And therefor balanced." the witch finished, "See, eloquent as fuck."

Dean was only half impressed, "Ok, but how exactly are we gonna do this? Or are we forgetting how the first time went?"

"She seems impossible to destroy." Castiel mused.

Sam eyed Chuck as he seemed to stare off into nothing. "Is she, Chuck? _Can_ we kill her?"

God twiddled his thumbs and stammered for a moment before everyone in the room rang out, "Chuck!"

"She _may_ have a weakness. Maybe." He stood and crossed the room, obviously still in pain, "Light. If we could gather enough light and expose her to it, that should do the trick."

"So we hijack an LED flashlight truck?" Chelsea offered.

"We'd need like ten-thousand suns set to supernova type light." Chuck clarified.

"So more than one truck."

"Chelsea..."

"Well no shit I'm not serious!" she threw up her hands, exasperated, "But c'mon! Where the hell are we suppose to get that kind of power?"

"Chuck?" Dean offered.

"Look at me, I can barely stand."

Chelsea eyed the other witch, "Rowena? Any ideas?"

"Excuse me?"

"You have the book of the damned don't you?"

She raised her hands, "This is well beyond..."

Sam was getting flustered, "Crowley then."

He was sitting off by himself nursing a bottle of scotch, "Oh I've got nothing."

"What about souls? They're living batteries; one of them is easily equal to one-hundred suns." Castiel finally was onto something.

"How do we harness that kind of power?"

"I can do that." Rowena perked up in her seat, "You get me enough souls and I can make a bomb."

"Sounds like a plan B to me." the other witch sat forward in her seat, "How many souls we talking here?"

"Thousands."

"Anybody got that many?"

"I can talk with the angels. Heaven is full of souls." Again, the angel with more than anyone else was offering.

"And?" Dean, as well as everyone, knew that might not be enough.

"Ghosts."

Dean clapped Chelsea on the back, startling her, "Good. Souls with baggage but still souls."

"How exactly do we round up that many?" Sam asked.

"Waverly Hills." the older answered after a heartbeat.

Chelsea could hear his smirk and of course she knew about that place. "The crazy house where thousands of people died pretty horribly. Fun."

"You gonna sit this one out?"

"No, I'm in. Just not excited."

"This plan is both desperate and stupid." again Crowley chimed form the corner, "But I'll go raid hell and see what's left."

Sam clapped his hands once and hopped off the table where he was perched, "Alright. Let's get to work."

* * *

"So you're afraid of ghosts?"

"I wouldn't say afraid."

"So what would you say then?"

Chelsea sighed and stepped away from the trunk as Dean closed it. "My relationship with death is that dead things should stay dead. Ghosts are just residual pain. They make me _uncomfortable._ "

"Sounds like a story." Sam joined them.

She chuckled, "I'll add it to the list of stories to tell if we survive. Or, you know, if you do." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a cloth bundle. Inside was a crystal, enchanted to be a vessel for souls. "Who wants the honors?"

Dean reached over and took it. "Ready?"

"No choice but to be. Are we sure it'll work?"

He put on a bad Irish accent, "Of course it'll work. It's a book of the damned spell."

She really couldn't help but laugh a little as Sam pushed opened the old doors, "Here we go."

Chelsea _wasn't_ afraid of ghosts. For so long, the larger part of her immortal life really, she couldn't understand the kind of pain that could keep anyone going even after death. Her life before she was cursed in this way was pretty traumatic and painful, sure. But she still couldn't fathom staying around after a death. Even before she learned of where she was headed. Being alone was scarier than hell but coming back here as a ghost was the scariest outcome of all.

The trio entered the building which was buzzing with activity.

"This place sure lives up to the hype." Dean commented, looking up from the jiggling EMF detector in his hand. Some doors slammed closed down a hall to their right which made the witch jump and bump into him. "Not scared my ass."

"Can we just do this please?"

"I'll get their attention. You two get ready."

Sam lagged behind and started poking around in rooms while the other two headed for a large room at the end of the hall. They didn't really say much as they started to spread salt and set traps, but Chelsea could feel his mind going.

" _This has to work."_ she could faintly hear.

"What're you going to do if this doesn't work?"

He seemed a little shocked but asked, "Excuse me?"

"If this plan doesn't work, what will you do?"

There was a second long pause before he went back to what he was doing, "I don't know. Nothing I can do I guess."

She passed him, heading for the duffel to grab an iron bar, "Then maybe don't stress it so much."

Dean was at a loss and a little annoyed, "Don't stress it?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes, "Whatever, I was just trying to help."

"Yeah, how good has that been working out?"

Now it was her turn to ask, "Excuse me?"

"You've been nothing but a pain in the ass." He stood, throwing his arms out in a 'there it is' gesture.

"I-!" something shoved him from behind and he fell on top of her, iron bar clattering over her head, "Get off!"

"Ugh!"

Something grabbed him by the back of the jacket and lifted him clean off in one sweep. Chelsea moved for the bar and swung, catching the ghost where it's shins used to be.

It vanished, dropping Dean. "Fuck me."

The witch laughed as she stood to face another that popped in a little ways across the room. "Who's being useful now?"

Shots could be heard coming closer and it could easily be said that Sam did too good of a job. "Why did we even put down salt!"

Dean ducked as Chelsea approached, batter ready, and took out one standing behind him. He took out his normal gun and shot a trap he'd set over the door. Raining said and taking out several as they entered the room.

Chelsea paused to gesture at it, "Salty buckshot wouldn't have had the same effect?"

He raised the shotgun and she dove out of the way, still taking a couple wayward salt chips to the arm. The tiny cuts were hardly worth worrying about, "Fuck you." she said from the floor.

"I think it worked!" Sam came sliding into the room more or less. Flanked by a dozen or so ghosts.

She got up fast enough and took out another in the older winchester's path as he headed for the duffle in the middle of the room. He was knocked down again and the crystal slid across to the wall. "You know what-!"

"Not now!" he cut her off and picked up another bar, swinging at anything in the now almost full room.

A gun clattered and Chelsea watched Sam get raised up by his neck, "Magic word!" he managed.

"The crystal!" he couldn't get to it.

"Dean!"

He could barely manage to focus in when the crystal came hurtling across the floor, picking up just enough air for him to grab it around his knees and make a clean move to toss it in the air. Shouting in one confident burst, "Haggis!"

There was a pink flash that was over in mere moments and the crystal fell from the air, right atop the duffel, glowing brightly. The three approached it, huffing from the fight. The witch grinned, "You guys know what haggis is?"

Sam laughed as his brother rolled his eyes, "Shut up."

* * *

"The angels won't be helping."

"You're not serious."

Castiel nodded," Unfortunately. They know God is dying so they don't think we can win. Souls or no souls. They're going to seal up heaven and I quote, 'die with dignity'."

Chelsea sat on the table and ruffled her curls tiredly as Dean looked to Crowley. "What about you?"

"Well, I _had_ all the souls we need."

"Had?"

"While I was...away, it seems my court raided my stash. I've got nothing."

The witch laid back across the table, "We're all gonna die."

She felt a hand at her knee and sat up, all too ready to take Dean's original route and drink until it all ended. But she was aware of who was at the end of that hand and she let Sam capture the curls at the side of her head in a show of comfort. Some attempt to warm her and all she felt, honestly, was pity. All of a few days the ring was back on his finger and it bent him to her again, already.

Dean was just annoyed, "Damnit, there's got to be another way."

The main lights cut, dimming the room a touch and after they both pulled the witch off the table to stand between them, she and the Winchesters immediately had guns cocked and trained for the door.

Footsteps approached, slow and deliberate.

What now? Was all she could think, but stood her ground as she felt the brothers on either side of her, calm and ready.

The door swung open at the top of the stairs and a woman entered. She leaned against the railing as the boys put their gun's down, "Nice digs." she commented.

Sam reached over and lowered Chelsea's arm as he asked, "Billie?"

"Who's Billie?" Both witches asked in unison.

"Reaper. Wants us dead." Dean answered.

Chelsea would've questioned further but sensed it would do no good so she recaptured her spot on the table.

Billie sauntered over, passing Crowley with a suggestive, "Hey." before standing to face the brothers.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asked as he and Dean stood shoulder to shoulder.

"I saw you boys at Waverly Hills with this one." She gestured to the witch, "Now call me a curious kitten, but with credits about to roll, I had to ask – what are ya'll doing busting ghosts?"

"Why do care?"

"Dead folks? Kind of my thing."

The brothers shared a look then Sam looked to Chelsea who only shrugged, she had no authority here. "We're collecting souls to build a bomb." he started.

"To blow the darkness to hell." Dean elaborated.

"Only we don't have nearly enough." the witch finished. Next to her, not even a foot away the crystal just glowed ominously.

Billie eyed all three of them then looked to the crystal, pondering for a moment, "Okay."

"Okay? What does that mean?"

"It means with the way things are going, I'm about an hour away from reaping God himself."

"So you're going to help?"

She just smiled, "Little tip, if you want souls, call a reaper."

Chelsea found herself easing away as she reached for the crystal, holding it out in her open palm. She stood there quietly, nothing happening for a few heartbeats. Then the light of the crystal flashed, not too brilliantly to blind but enough to tell everyone something was happening. Billie looked satisfied with herself as slowly more and more lights, souls, drifted into the bunker, pouring into the crystal. Soon everyone in the room was more or less shielding their eyes.

Then just like that, it was over.

"That enough?" She asked.

Rowena gingerly took the now almost unstable looking crystal and placed it back on the cloth on the table, "More than enough."

Billie turned to leave, her stride strong and confident.

Dean called out, "See you around."

She turned back, almost smirking, "Yeah, you will. Better just hope it's not today." with a glance at Crowley, again suggestively, she left.

Chelsea let out a breath she hadn't even noticed she was holding as the door closed, "What now?"

"Now we find Amara."

"I can track her." Chuck spoke up. "She's not warded anymore. No reason for her to be. She won."

"We need someone to get close to her, someone with a…personal connection." Castiel explained.

Everyone in the bunker looked at Dean, who heard them loud and clear. He approached Rowena, "Ok, so how do I smuggle this thing?"

"You don't." she said plainly, "You'll _be_ the bomb. I put what's in here," she gestured to the crystal then to his chest, "In there. Once you get close to her, you press your thumb and pointer finger together and boom."

"Woah." Chelsea jumped down off the table, "That's not safe, it'll kill him."

"That's an unfortunate truth." Rowena said. Slightly startled at the other witch's interjection.

"Ok so maybe in that moment, before getting too close, she won't notice if it's not _really_ Dean."

"What?" Dean asked from behind her.

She turned to him but he looked into his own eyes and heard his own voice as she spoke, "I'm saying that if I go as you, maybe I can get close enough and die in your place."

"How kind of you girl but that won't work." Rowena said behind her.

Dean, for all of a moment looked at her as not a burden or an annoyance. It was a decent idea and one she'd enacted on the fly, almost out of instinct, but "She's been one with me before. She'll know."

Sam finally spoke up, having gathered himself enough to do so, "That _is_ kind of you, Chelsea, but–"

"Again with the kindness?" she asked, almost panicked but pushed that part of it down as she ran both hands over her face, returning to her own form. She _had_ stepped in with this urgent feeling to protect Dean, but she also had felt Sam's fear in that moment _and_ Deans hesitation. "This isn't an act of kindness…only." she added, turning her gaze from the younger brother to the older, "But I'm supposed to be useful, the tool. The one who _gets_ to die."

"You think I want to die?"

"I know you don't. It's why I'm offering." Their staring contest was intense until Sam reached over, touching her arm, "But you don't want to die either."

All three sets of eyes were red and welling with tears by the moment. Their emotions were overloading her and at this exact moment it was hard to tell which of them was feeling what. She took a deep breath through her nose, clenching her jaw as Dean put a hand on her other arm, moving her aside so he could face Rowena, "Ok, lets do it."

* * *

It was infuriating to watch. The two of them standing over there at their mother's grave.

It was Dean's request, to see her before they do this. But her frustration was not with the visit to the graveyard, but this calm he emitted. He and Sam both.

She did not want to die, not anymore. But her path…it wasn't supposed to end here and she could _feel_ it. She clutched a small ring box inside her jacket pocket, and despite its spells the buzzing warmth from inside it touched her palm.

" _We have to do something!" she hissed as Sam pulled her aside._

" _We can't. It's his choice and the only way to end this."_

 _Her disgust couldn't be hidden, "You're ok with this? Where was the defiance I felt when this plan was offered? Where's the emotion that helped me jump off that table and offer myself?"_

" _Chelsea, please."_

 _He was so done with the situation, so sad and tired and with such an end in sight he felt no comfort. And this thing on his hand, amplifying her frustration at him, it didn't help. Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a box, a little black velvet ring box._

 _As he opened it he explained, "I reworked the sigils we use on boxes for cursed objects. You should be able to touch it without feeling the ring's effects." he took off the ring and placed it inside as he spoke._

 _Chelsea stared at it in his palm. "You don't want to give me that."_

" _My brother is going to die. So no, I do not want to be alone." he looked at her with tear-filled eyes though not quite crying, "But I made you a promise; offered you a choice."_

 _ **"You have the power this time to make sure they do right by you. What Nathaniel did, making you a slave forever, that was careless. Make sure these two don't do anything just as careless."**_

 _He had offered her a choice, one she wasn't going to pass up._

He'd looked more heartbroken when she'd taken it than when Dean agreed to die. Footsteps raised her head, she stood away from the group, leaning against the car alone. He'd spoken to Chuck briefly, overhearing that Amara was still his sister and he loved her. But this had to be done. Castiel had given him a hug and promised to not let Sam do anything stupid.

She chuckled a touch to herself, putting up a hand to wipe away tears that started falling after Sam wandered closer. She refused watch as they exchanged this odd but pure brand of love between brothers; passing on the very car she sat upon, a part of Dean more than anything else. She had the ring in her own possession, but in this moment of intense grief she could still feel Sam causing her tears; she could feel them both. So she did look up when Dean approached her, shocked, but still managed to sarcastically say, "What? Need to remind me of how useless I've been?"

Dean didn't really know what he was doing. Honestly. He'd wandered over here because he felt like he had to. Deep down in his gut and fiercely in his chest. But he didn't expect she was crying. He looked back to his brother quickly then said, "No, it's just that Sam-"

"Gave me my freedom." she showed him the ring box, "So he'll…he'll be alone."

"Oh.." was all he could manage.

"Yeah."

It was awkward like that time in the bunker hallway but also somehow not.

"Well."

She looked up and despite herself smirked a bit, "Well what?"

His own strange smirk appeared, "This is awkward."

"Yeah, yeah it is."

Dean took a deep breath and stepped away to speak to everyone, turning his back to the witch. Sam's heart jumped as, just that fast, she disappeared.

* * *

When Chelsea arrived in the Baltimore apartment she'd owned since the sixties, she couldn't even bring herself to turn on the lights. It was darker than it should have been, even with the windowed ceiling, but the dimming sun shed very little light.

In fact, it was getting darker as she placed the ring box on the table and wandered over to the blue velvet sofa amongst a sea of plants and large standing crystals.

She laid across it and stared right up at the sun, trying to push down what she was feeling. It didn't work though and she cried freely. This shouldn't hurt as much as it did is what she told herself. But she'd felt it the first time she'd met them but ignored it, and when she pulled those cards and made her choice it was so clear.

So very clear where she was supposed to be; regardless of what dark place it lead her to in the end.

Still it was too much, she couldn't even bear returning to the bunker; leaving behind her things and Nathaniel's journal…

The witch wasn't sure how long she'd laid there crying but felt odd after some time. It was a singular feeling; very direct. Like when your sleep is almost too good, lasting too long, and the dread of an alarm unset settles in and wakes you.

Her eyes opened and immediately averted the intense glare of the sun.

Wait…intense glare?

"Oh my god."

He'd done it. She sat up and headed for a window, swinging it wide open to the sounds of baffled people on the city street. People pointed and looked upward. He'd fucking done it. …Right? If he'd succeeded, he'd be dead. But, she _felt_ Dean. Leaning out the window it was coming in stronger and stronger.

He was a little baffled and possibly lost, but he was alive.

* * *

"Where am I?"

"Dean!"

He'd been trudging through the woods for a little over an hour. After deciding that talking it through was possibly the better option for saving everyone, Amara and Chuck included, the pair did just that. Even better, they actually managed to come to an understanding.

But in their moving on from here to wherever it was they'd decided to go. Dean was somehow dropped someplace unfamiliar to him.

"Dean!" The voice came again as a person came through the thick brush and crashed into him.

His vision was blurred by a mass of…curls? "Chelsea?"

She detached from her almost desperate hug rather quickly and shoved him, "What the fuck happened?"

"I…um…Why are you here?" he asked instead of answering.

"You're not dead!" She seemed excited and relieved and stressed all the same, "I felt you so I came."

"But…" he was so confused, "you can't go someplace you've never been."

"Dean, we're in the graveyard from earlier today."

The hunter didn't get a chance to answer as a voice sounded in the distance, "Help! Help me!"

A quick glance confirmed they both heard the same thing and ran off. Dean following the witch to a clearing that was, indeed, full of familiar stones. But while the witch ran ahead to the person who'd called out for help, grabbing her gently by the arms and asking, "Are you alright?" Dean had stopped, mouth open in surprise.

"Dean!" Chelsea was annoyed by his hesitation. Here stood a woman in her nightgown in the middle of the damn cemetery. Yet Dean was just standing there looking, confused? "Dean." she called again, firmly.

He wasn't even looking at her, but at the woman in her grasp. He swallowed quickly then asked, "Mom?"


	17. Mother, May I?

**Chapter 17**

 **Mother, May I?**

* * *

"How?"

"Amara, I think."

Chelsea paused then asked, "Amara did this?"

"She said I gave her something she needed and she wanted to do the same for me." he glanced over his shoulder at his mom who tugged his jacket closer around her shoulders and offered him a small, confused, smile, "I didn't know what she meant. I didn't know she even knew about her."

The witch reminded him, "You two were one and the same at one point."

"What the hell are we going to do?"

"We?"

"You came back didn't you?"

Now Chelsea wasn't so sure what she was doing. There was this odd excitement and relief when she felt he was alive so she just went with it. She'd also just realized at that moment that she'd walked away from where she was, seemingly, supposed to be. She crossed her arms, "Right, I did. I vote we get her to the bunker, get her some clothes, loop Sam into all of this."

"He's going to freak out when he sees her."

"And you."

Realization washed over his face, "Right, he probably thinks I'm dead. You can't feel him?"

"No. No ring, no connection."

"But I don't-"

"I know." she interrupted, "That's a little different. And something else to add to the list for later." With another sigh she glanced at his mom, she died so young, a pity. She was going to have to remember to ask about her death later, at a not so sensitive time of course. "I'm going to find us some wheels. You should stay with her, explain things. She looks utterly confused."

"She was a hunter." that made Chelsea look to him, a little shocked and he continued, "That may help."

The witch wasn't sure what to say next so she awkwardly pointed off at the lot, "Shout if you need me."

She was already a few feet away when she heard, "Thanks."

She didn't answer and continued forward. Of course this would have been more complicated if he were alone, but she knew that's not what he meant. That in itself was a shock, really. She wasn't expecting their reunion to go like it did, for as short as it was. She definitely didn't mean to hug him like like that. Arms thrown over his shoulders pretty desperately.

That was a huge bucket of yikes. All the same though, she half expected him to ask why she'd bothered; maybe even tell her to leave.

The witch approached a small truck and tried the door. No luck but it had an older push button lock system, easy enough for her to wave a finger or two and get inside. She had it started as the sun started to rise and she sat patiently behind the wheel. Minutes later Dean and his mom appeared at the edge of the lot and she pulled around, giving him the honor of driving and climbing into the backseat.

"We haven't really met yet."

Chelsea had been sort of caught watching the back of Dean's head, he glanced into the rear view as his mom addressed the witch, "I'm sorry. I figured you two needed a moment. I'm Chelsea."

"Hunter?"

"Witch." Dean answered, looking into the rear view again and right into her green eyes, "And a friend."

* * *

"You live here?"

Mary looked out over the bunker in awe, "Yeah. When we're not on the road." Dean answered. "It's an old men of letters bunker.

"Men of Letters? They're a myth. An old hunters story."

"Not so much." the trio headed down the stairs. Dean glanced back at his mom, still in her gown then started, "Hey Chelsea could you-"

"Grab Mary some clothes?" He grinned slightly as she finished and met his grin with her own sliding past them both when they reached the landing, "Sure."

Mary smiled as the witch took a few steps ahead of them but frowned when she stopped, looking down at the floor. "Everything ok?"

"Dean."

He joined her as she pointed to where she was looking, her finger moving along the floor. They didn't say anything, just looked at each other. The understanding mutual and obvious. Mary moved to the other side of the witch, curios, and noted, "That's blood."

"Yeah. And this close I should sense Sam."

"You don't?" Dean asked, a little panicked. She confirmed with a look and he called out anyway, "Sammy!"

Chelsea was already half into the library when she heard Dean cock his gun. He came up behind her and called out again, this time "Cass?"

She pointed to the wall just behind her.

Dean noted the sigil and went back to his mom, giving her the pistol they kept stashed under the table. "Stay here."

He glanced into the library but the witch had already entered the halls. He went the other way around, through the kitchen, and searched as well. He was worried but he still couldn't help asking himself why she was here. Sam had given her ring back. She could have gone off and pretended she'd never met them.

" _Now you either choose to stay, or Sam can make you."_

" _Dean-"_

 _Chelsea held up her hand, "I choose to, thank you, Sam."_

She aligned with Sam so easily, or at least he'd thought that. He'd even regretted telling Sam she wasn't his friend, that was unfair. Rather than take her freedom, she came to his aid without question.

"Yo. No one is here."

Dean watched her approach from the other end of the hall holding an armful of clothes. "Damn. Is there anything you can do?"

"There's plenty I can do. But to be honest I wouldn't know where to start and we don't have time to dick around."

"Right."

Chelsea could have sworn she heard a door open somewhere, "You hear that?"

"Was that the door?"

In the next heartbeat they realized one of two things could have just happened. Someone they know just showed up, and given the unlikeliness that it was Sam, it was no one Mary knew and she had a gun. Secondly, it could be whoever was behind Sam being missing and the blood on the floor.

They both took off at top speed, reaching the library and main room pretty quickly.

"Woah woah! Mom! He's a friend."

Turns out it was scenario one. Castiel had returned to the bunker. The angel went wide eyed as Dean approached his mother, lowering her gun. He looked to Chelsea for clarification and she just shrugged.

"Dean!"

"Yeah, hey Cass."

"You're alive? What about the bomb and the Darkness? What happened?"

"I will tell you everything later. Where is Sam?"

"He's not here."

"Obviously." the witch interjected, approaching Mary and handing her the clothes, "Were you with him?"

"I was. I-"

"Are you a hunter?" Mary interjected, having soaked in enough of the familiar exchange.

"Angel." all three answered her.

"What?"

"Angel. With a capitol 'A'. Mom, this is Castiel." he turned to the angel, "Cass, this is Mary Winchester."

Realization dawned on him, "Your mother?"

"Yes, more about that later. What happened to Sam?"

"When we came back here there was a woman waiting for us. She blasted me away. I don't know who she was or what happened to Sam."

"You said a woman." the witch combed for elaboration, "As in human, not an angel, demon or witch?"

"She was human. Regular human. I'm sure of it."

Dean sat before the computer on the table, "When did this happen?"

"It was two-twelve a.m."

The hunter opened the laptop and started clicking away. Mary marveled at the computer for a moment, surprised at it's size. "Got something."

Chelsea moved to his side, "Nice wheels."

"What difference does that make?"

She tried not to roll her eyes, "Well funded. Whoever this woman is she's got connections. Who else brings an Escalade to a kidnapping?"

The witch had a point. Even scarier, money could mean they travel a lot faster and quieter, they could be anywhere. "It ran a red light a few blocks from here at two twenty-one. There wasn't another car for forty minutes."

"So this is her. Or them for all we know."

Chelsea stood up and turned to Mary, "You should get changed. You can use my room."

"We'll be in the garage." Dean called out after her as both women rounded the corner.

Castiel did that thing where he invaded personal space when he had what he felt was an urgent question or observation. Dean easily took a step away and sighed, "Cass I can't explain all this now. I don't even know how any of it happened." He thought the angel was poising to ask about Mary or the Darkness.

"How is Chelsea with you?"

"Uh…" he just went with what she told him, "She felt me apparently and just showed up."

"Felt you?" the angel reached for Dean's wrists, "Do you have the ring?"

"I don't Cass. I'm telling you, she just showed up."

He was having a hard time reading the usually obvious angel. He was clearly confused but despite his questions, didn't seem the least bit skeptical.

"C'mon. We gotta find Sam."

* * *

"Alright, let's ride." Chelsea clapped her hands as she bounced up the stairs into the garage.

Mary entered behind her but stopped and sort of went off in a daze at the sight of the Impala.

"Mom?" Dean question, worried.

The woman approached the car and touched it gently, "This was John's car. She's still so beautiful."

"Hell yeah she is." Dean commented proudly.

Chelsea folded her arms as she watched. The love in Mary's eyes was so pure as she spoke to the car. A fond, "Remember me?" grew a real smile on her face. She leaned down into the open window and almost gazed at the backseat.

Dean had been watching her until he realized something, which the witch realized soon after when he looked to her, shocked and disgusted and she had to cover her mouth to stop the abrupt laugh. Then she of course realized something about her usual seat in the car. There had been a generation or two of action going on back there.

No one spoke about it as they drove. A fake APB lead them the car's last known location, a quiet house in a suburb about three-hundred miles away. One would think with the connections they may have had, they'd go further away than a few cities over.

"Jamie Ross?" Castiel called out to the man as the four entered the garage. Jamie, the man in question, was replacing fluids in the Escalade they were chasing.

"Who's asking?"

"The blonde woman that you drove yesterday? What was her name?" He asked, steadily approaching.

"Blonde?" his accent was very English, "Sorry mate, you've got the wrong-!"

He was interrupted as Cass broke his nose and proceeded to head butt him again until Dean called out, almost like to a misbehaving pet, "Cass!"

"That's an angel?" Mary questioned her son.

Chelsea chuckled, "He probably learned it from this one."

Castiel was still on mission despite the chatter, "Blonde. Name. Now."

"I don't know her name." Jamie sniveled, nose bloody.

"What _do_ you know?"

* * *

"I didn't feel a trace of Sam. But without the ring I have to concentrate pretty hard and be so close…"

"It's alright. We'll find him." Dean clicked around on the computer and typed in the tail number Jamie had given them.

According to him, he picked the woman up from the airport and was then instructed to go to the bunker. He had little contact with her personally. Having picked her up and dropped her off at locations he'd never visited before. He really couldn't tell them much. Besides the fact that the last place he'd dropped her hadn't been far from where they'd found him.

" _I think it was a doctor's office of some kind."_

"Dammit."

"What?"

"The plane has diplomatic registry."

"Which means no flight plan." she sighed, "So I was right about the money but had no clue just how much. Who is this woman?"

Dean pushed back from the computer and headed for the door of the library. Chelsea followed behind him closely as they readied to cross the street, "He said he took them to a doctor's office. That's risky even if she has money to throw around. Those places aren't exactly private."

"What are you thinking?" He asked, more or less guiding her across the street as she was so wrapped up in her thoughts she wasn't paying attention.

"I'm thinking anywhere with some anesthesia and privacy would do just fine."

"How many rural places will you find with anesthesia lying around?"

Chelsea wasn't really looking anywhere in particular but a car passing close by made her look. It was a grey truck with a Veterinary hospital sticker on it, heading down a long drive to what looked like a private home. But lo and behold there was a Vet Hospital sign at the start of the path. "I think you find one right under your nose." she pat him on the chest to get his attention then pointed.

Dean didn't even bother approaching Castiel and Mary who were at the coffee stand across the street in deep conversation. He just shouted, "Cass!" and beckoned. "Do you feel him?"

The witch had to come to a complete stop and squeezed her eyes shut just to concentrate. Sam really was more or less dead to her without the ring on his hand, "Nothing. But this is still a good bet."

"Right."

* * *

It was a great bet. The good doctor had way more than the driver did. Looked like a hundred grand was more than enough to get him to pull a bullet out of Sam's leg without question but not enough to keep him quiet in the face of an angry angel.

He had her number and staged a call. After a very heated conversation they at least had a number to trace.

It wasn't much and everyone was at a different level of dejected, but it was something. The car ride back to the bunker was mostly quiet. Everyone in their own heads, figuring out next steps or trying to comprehend the ones already laid out. Dean looked over at his mother, the strange feeling in his chest still there, that if he blinked, she'd be gone. She met his gaze and offered a smile, but it lasted not nearly long enough as the car took a hit to the rear fender. Spinning out, nearby into a ditch but halted by the hunter's handling.

The truck that blew the stop sign and smacked into them just idled on the other side of the road.

Mary was more or less in his lap, having hit her head on the glass, "Mom!"

"She's fine." Castiel reached up from the back seat and touched her, "she's just unconscious."

"Stay with her. Chelsea?"

"Yeah." The witch opened her door and started to get out, a little dizzy, "I'm good."

Dean surveyed the damage. "Dammit." It wasn't as bad as it could be but he wasn't looking forward to fixing it.

The witch joined him, "Where's the asshole that hit us?"

"I take it you mean me?"

An English accent turned the pair toward the truck. A woman leaned against it, unbothered by the accident save a small cut above her eye. She smirked in a way that told them this accident was no accident.

"You're one of them?" Dean asked.

"I'm one of them." She confirmed.

Next to him Chelsea raised a hand, as if to fling her across the road and into the truck. The woman, who had begun her approach, took a small stumble backwards but smirked, "A witch? With a Winchester?"

Her sarcasm wasn't lost on Chelsea who rolled her neck and put up her fists, "Fine, no magic."

Dean hesitated, wanting to step in as the witch took a blow to her stomach that doubled her over. Dean noticed the brass knuckles as she landed at his feet after taking a shot to the jaw. He helped her up and she wiped the blood from her mouth, "The damn things are enchanted."

"If it's a dirty fight she wants…" he trailed as they took her on together.

Even at two on one the woman was dominating them both; managing to get the Winchester's gun away from him. She'd obviously gone through some sort of combat training and it dwarfed the skills Dean and Chelsea had from simply fighting to stay alive. It was like watching a couple of dim-witted brawlers against a very well trained soldier. The knuckles were only amplifying her strength and skill, as well as keeping Chelsea from throwing magic at her.

The woman opened a pretty nasty cut on the witch's cheekbone before sending her headfirst into the truck fender. "Cass!" Dean finally called the angel away from his mother before he joined Chelsea on the ground.

He rolled the unconscious witch over and just that fast Castiel was bested.

"That's it? That's all there is to Dean Winchester and his pets?" The woman smirked and pointed Dean's gun at Chelsea.

"Hey!" The hunter protested.

She was more than happy to turn the gun on him, "Oh? Would you like to go first instead? Not a pro-!"

The gun went off, just narrowly missing Dean's head, as Mary stuck an angel blade through the woman's back. She sort of stood in a daze until her son took the blade, handing it to the angel, "Thanks mom. You ok?"

She said nothing, and instead turned and walked back to the car. Sitting in the front seat.

"What happened?"

Behind him Chelsea had woken up and was being pulled to standing by the angel. "Mary saved us."

"Saved us?" she fished for clarification, "You lost too?"

"Unfortunately I was bested."

"What kind of human can kick an angel's ass?"

Dean loved to know that answer too.


	18. The Gang's All Here

**Chapter 18**

 **The Gang's All Here**

 **A/N: We haven't checked on Sam in a while, although it's not like he's been doing much besides getting tortured and feeling sorry for himself...**

* * *

"It would be so much easier to concentrate on what I'm doing if you weren't thinking so loud."

"What?"

Chelsea slapped her right hand down flat on the table to join her left, the crystal on a string clattering as she did so. She had been trying to scry for Sam. After tracing the call to Aldrich, Missouri, she at least had a finite area to concentrate on. Some of the younger Winchester's things were on the table and the crystal recognized its search area but it just spun over that area of the map, not once tugging downward to one specific spot.

With the distraction though she was unsure if her magic wasn't focused or if something was hinkey about Sam's location.

"I can't find your brother when you're going back and forth about your mom so loudly."

Dean was thoroughly confused and asked again, "What?"

"I swear to god I'm going to shove this crystal down your throat."

"You can't turn that shit off?"

"Don't you think I would If I could? I almost preferred it when you were badly thinking Bon Jovi. How does anyone sing so badly in their own head..." she trailed off.

She looked to him as he rubbed his face tiredly and stood to sort of pace the room. Her tone changed just a touch, a little less annoyed and a bit more worried, "Dean."

"I don't even know where to start." He could feel what she waned. For him to talk instead of think.

The witch sighed and with a gesture she knocked the back of his knees with a chair and brought him to her. She sat on the table and lent forward, "I'm listening."

"Things are just so awkward!" he blurted out.

"Well it's hard to make conversation with someone you haven't seen since you were..."

"Four." He filled in.

She frowned, "You don't know each other."

"She's my mom."

"But Dean, you don't even truly know her as that. The relationship you'd have now with your mom, as a man, would be different if she'd actually raised you. That bond evolves with all the firsts she missed; all the milestones. How could either of you truly know each other without that?"

She felt that hurt his feelings, which made her frown deepen, "I'm sorry. I'm not trying to say that not knowing her as deeply means you shouldn't have missed her or should have missed her less. Just that the awkwardness comes from a relationship that didn't get time to truly grow."

"I don't want to overwhelm her."

"You are not the only thing capable of doing that. The whole _world_ is different now. Do you have any idea how often my mind has been blown by technological advances over the last three-hundred years?"

He looked at her finally, chuckling just a touch and nodded in understanding. Chelsea smiled, "She just needs a little time."

Dean wasn't sure why that worked when it wasn't really what he wanted to hear. He reached forward and pat her knee in thanks and she chuckled, jumping down, "Yeah, you're welcome."

"Am I interrupting?" Mary cautiously entered the room from the hallway.

"Not at all." the 'younger' woman answered, still smiling, "I'm going to take my project to my room." she waved her finger in a "wrap it up" gesture and the map, crystals and Sam's things disappeared. She put her hands in her back pockets and left.

Mary caught Dean's wry grin as he turned to face her, "Is she your..?"

"No! Hell no! God no."

She shrugged, amused, and took a seat as Dean gathered himself before asking her. "How'd you sleep?"

"Great...I think. I mean, I had _dreams._ "

"About?"

Mary pulled herself closer to the table, cradling her head in her hand, "Memories mostly. Funny things your father used to do..."

His smile shrunk just a touch, "Mom, are you ok?"

She sighed, "I don't know. I spent my whole life running from hunting, trying to protect my family from it. Yet here you are."

"After you died, it changed dad. He _had_ to know what happened."

She nodded solemnly, "If I'd never made that deal that yellow-eyed thing would have never..." She couldn't even finish but Dean got what she was saying. All the same, they wouldn't be here without that deal... Mary gathered herself and smiled at her son, "But don't worry about me. Or about overwhelming me. Chelsea was right, I just need a minute."

"So you heard that."

"I did. She's a smart girl; seems really in tune with you."

He rolled his eyes, "She's a pain in the ass."

"Dean." she scolded lightly.

"She's alright I guess." he admitted, "She's lived a long life though. Wouldn't be surprised if she got bored of us eventually."

"Long life? She can't be a day over twenty-five."

Dean tried not to chuckle, "Mom, she's pushing three-hundred."

"What? Is she keeping up a spell?"

His expression turned uncomfortable, which only made Mary more curious. It wasn't unusual for witches to live for hundreds of years, but it required dedication and the upkeep of a spell usually. They also had to avoid danger. Staying young forever didn't mean you couldn't die.

Mary had just assumed the fresh faced girl was a wiccan the boys picked up along the way.

"Dean?" she pressed when he took too long to answer.

"It's a long story. She's got this ring and she's like attached to it?"

"Like a genie and a lamp?"

"That's what I said! I guess you could say she's genie-ish?"

"She grants wishes?"

Dean chuckled, "It's more straightforward. Whoever wears the ring can tell her what to do and she has to obey."

Mary frowned deeply, "That's horrible."

Her eldest son just nodded, realizing that as well, "I guess it is."

"And this ring is?"

"Sam had it, but he gave it back to her." He sort of trailed off then remembered the most vital part, "Oh! And she can't die."

"Excuse me?"

He shrugged, "I don't think I could get it much clearer than that mom. I put a bullet in her head when we first met and she literally shook it off."

That was a lot to hear, "Angels; a witch that can't die... You boys have made some interesting friends."

"You have no idea."

They both started a touch as Dean's phone buzzed across the table. With a glance at the caller ID he answered, "Cass?"

In the next few heartbeats he was hurriedly grabbing his jacket, an "Are you sure?" and "Where?" later and he was putting the phone in his pocket.

Mary's eyes were wide with anticipation as he finally said, "He found Sam." then shouted, "Chelsea!"

Mary grabbed her jacket as well, "Let's go get him."

Dean halted, "Mom, I think you should stay here."

"Why?"

"We don't now what we're walking into. It may not be safe."

"We're Hunters, we never know what we're walking into."

"Well yeah but..."

She pat him on the shoulder, "I'm going."

When the witch entered she was shrugging on her leather jacket, "I take it Castiel called? Hey, what's wrong with you?"

He gestured at his mom who was rounding the corner, heading to the garage. Chelsea chuckled and pat his shoulder also, "Did you try your big boy voice?" she teased.

"Shut up."

* * *

"Is he in there?"

Chelsea felt nauseous. The warding on the farm house was unnecessarily strong. "I'll let you know after I throw up."

"Dean."

Castiel approached, casting a confused glance at the witch who lent against the hood of the car, Mary rubbing her back in a comforting manner. "Well?" Dean pulled his attention.

"I can't really tell if he's in there. The warding is so strong I can't go any closer. A blonde woman paid cash for the house for a six month lease but no one has seen anyone fitting her description go in or out."

"Ok, let me see something..." Chelsea approached, still looking rather green for her caramel complexion. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a patch of cloth, cut from one of Sam's shirts, and a plain quartz crystal on a string.

It hung and swayed a bit in the breeze but nothing else happened. "Seriously?" Dean asked.

"Sometimes the simplest methods are the best."

"Why not a mirror?"

"One, mirror scrying is for peeping assholes. Two, the warding wouldn't let me see inside _anyway_. So how about you shut the hell up and let me try."

"What good will this do if it works?" Mary asked gently.

"I think the spot on the map this thing kept circling was this house. But the warding wouldn't let it drop in any exact location." As she spoke the crystal started to wiggle on the string and the witch pinched it harder between her fingers, the cloth in the same fist, "But hopefully now that I'm here it'll get as close to the warding barrier as it can."

As soon as she stopped talking the crystal lifted and pointed at the house, tugging like a dog on a leash. Chelsea let go and the crystal whizzed across the yard a ways before knocking into something invisible, yards from the house, sending a ripple of gold colored magic over the air before dropping into the grass.

She and Dean looked at each other, "He's in there."

"Alive?"

"Crystal method doesn't work on dead things." she affirmed.

"Alright," Mary started walking down the drive and Dean stopped her.

"I should go alone."

"Why?"

Both his mom and the witch asked at the same time and when he shot her a glare Chelsea raised her hands in surrender and walked back to stand next to the angel, rubbing her temples. Castiel looked on awkwardly.

The witch didn't fully understand his logic. Mary was a hunter, a very good one when she was alive and apparently still. They'd all seen what they were up against but she and Castiel couldn't go inside. It only made sense to take a skilled hunter with him.

The issue was that Mary wasn't a hunter to Dean, she was his mother.

And he'd already lost her once...

Dean looked to the witch and angel for help as Mary continued to question his want to leave her out. The former crossed her arms, unwilling to help, but the later wasn't as strong.

Castiel approached and gave some shit reasoning for needing her presence. Something about not being able to care properly for a sick witch. "Don't use me as a poor excuse.I'm not _that_ sick."

She grabbed Dean by the jacket and pulled him off to the side, lowering her voice to a harsh whisper, "This is like fucking deja vu with you. You cannot go in there-."

"Alone." he finished for her, "I know that."

"Then what the hell are you doing?" she closed her eyes to will away the nausea. The warding really was so strong, almost too strong. But these people were well aware of who they'd taken, and who'd possibly be after him.

"I'm not losing her again."

"Dean, they could kill you in there, they could be _killing_ Sam. The only person who _can_ go in there with you is your mother."

"It's not safe."

The witch took a deep breath and reached into her jacket pocket, "I can't believe this." She presented the ring box to him, "Take it."

"Why? You can't go in there even if I call."

She hesitated, watching the box and her quivering hand intently before she gave him the same intense look. If she was right about Dean, his order would be stronger than average. After all, he didn't even call her the last time and she still got pretty close with Amara's interference. "I get the feeling I can do more than I thought I could... with you."

His ears turned red as he took the box, taking the ring without question and putting it on the gold chain still around his neck from before. The witch was visibly tense until he put a hand on her shoulder and said firmly, "Relax."

Chelsea had never been so grateful for such an order and wondered if it would've worked the last time she felt like a ball of nerves when the ring was in his possession. Then again he wasn't exactly in the best state at the time. Her shoulders relaxed, the tension in her neck eased, and she even felt less nausea than a few moments ago. Her heart however, still pounded in her chest.

"You think it'll bring you through the barrier?" He was still trying to process how she thought he was going to do something seemingly impossible by just willing it.

"We're going to find out."

"Right."

"And Dean." He'd started off towards the house but turned back, she pointed at the ring resting on is chest, "Don't lose that."

With a nod he tucked it down into his shirt.

* * *

Sam was exhausted. With the torture and mind games he could barely even remember how long he'd been captured. Three days...four?

What he did remember was what he'd spilled so far. Things about his own past and things about Dean. Things he figured didn't matter, seeing as his brother was dead. But he still felt guilty. This woman managed to get only a morsel here and there while she literally mind fucked him. But he was determined to say nothing else. Despite the fact that no one was coming to get him, despite that no one knew where he was; he refused to utter another truth.

His head snapped up when the door opened and she stood at the top of the stairs; looking amused as usual, "You might as well kill me." He sneered.

"Why would I do that?"

"Because I'm done talking to you."

Her smirk was just too knowing and she reached just out of sight and presented Dean to him, handcuffed and looking a bit sheepish. "That's just fine Sam. Because _you_ may be OK with playing our little games. But how do you think your brother will hold up?"

"Dean?"

"Hey Sammy." Dean greeted his brother as he was roughly guided down the stairs then strung up to a post on the ceiling by his cuffs.

"But you're..."

"Dead? Not so much."

"But Amara...Chuck, what happened?"

"Yes Dean. Please do tell us of your triumph over the darkness."

"I ain't telling you shit lady."

"Too bad." She approached and punched him square between his eyes. The enchanted brass knuckles on her slim hand making the Winchester dizzy. "Ask your brother, I have so many fun toys we can try and I am so excited to test the limits of your pain tolerance."

Dean offered her a bullshit grin before she turned away to approach the table full of aforementioned toys, "Oh goody."

Sam tried to lean into his brother from his tied position in his chair, "What are we going to do?" he whispered harshly.

Dean smirked despite his still swimming vision and whispered, "You assume I came alone."

"What was that?" the blonde asked, amused still, especially at the thought of some well laid plan when he couldn't even approach a door.

Her answer was a tap to her shoulder and Chelsea promptly head butting her. She tossed back her mass of curls and sneered at the woman, "I'm pretty sure he was talking about me."

"Nice." Dean commented. "What took so long?"

"I bumped into the barrier a few times."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah." she chuckled, "I'm dizzy as fuck."

Meanwhile Sam was at a loss for words, "How did you..?"

She motioned to the older brother, "He called, I came."

" _You_ have it?"

"Don't sound so surprised Sammy." He nodded at the witch, "Get me down."

Chelsea waved a hand at Dean but nothing happened. She cursed under her breath, "Enchanted cuffs." She started towards him but was yanked back by the blonde grabbing a handful of curls.

"How did you get in?"

Chelsea threw back an elbow, catching the woman in the nose, "You heard me. He called," she turned in the woman's grip, "so I came." when she was free she tossed the woman across the room with a shove motion and straightened her jacket, "Should have kept the knuckles on."

"She's got the keys."

The witch held out her hand, a small pair of keys appearing. She approached Dean but hesitated before reaching up to his cuffed hands. They were basically nose to nose when Sam asked, "But you left. How'd you come back?"

"I could..." she trailed as she fumbled the keys a bit, "I could feel that Dean was still alive when the sun clicked back on." she met the older's green gaze as she finished with, "No ring needed for that."

"Look out!" Sam tried to warn the witch as he noticed the blonde had managed to make it across the room as they spoke. Dean had a hand free but it was too late as Chelsea stepped back from him; a narrow blade protruding from her neck. She clasped a hand over the new hole in her throat as the blade was removed.

"Not again."

The woman came at Dean with the long needle next but he smirked when a gun clicked, the needle mere centimeters from his eye, "Get away from my boys."

Sam stared in disbelief until he could find the words, "Mom?" was all he could offer.

"Oh yeah." his big brother verified before resuming getting his cuffs off, the witch having left them dangling from the undone bracelet.

"Are you OK Sam?" Mary asked her youngest.

"I..."

As he fumbled for words she looked to the witch on the ground. "Is she..?"

"Dead?" Dean finished.

"Not yet." came the raspy answer from the floor, "But I'm gonna...bleed out in a minute..." The witch was on her knees and one hand as the other held to her throat.

The blonde chuckled and shook her head in disbelief, "How on earth did you neanderthals get your hands on Nathaniel Commons' ring?"

"Dumb luck I guess." the older answered as he pulled the ring out of his shirt.

She was clearly annoyed at herself for not checking the hunter for less obvious weapons. She would have recognized the ring had she found it.

"Well what's all this?" Another English accent sounded from the stairs, a male this time.

A well dressed man stopped at the base of the stairs as Castiel passed him. The angel stopped at the witch first, reaching down and healing her. She thanked him as she stood.

"Who the hell are you?"

"The name's Mick; British Men of Letters." He offered Mary a gentlemanly smile, "That will no longer be necessary." he gestured to the gun.

The women separated as the man spoke again, "It seems as though Lady Bevel has taken things too far. She will be properly reprimanded."

"Only seems that way huh?" Chelsea asked sarcastically, "What do you people want?"

The man smiled at her, "Besides the chance to study you at some point, love? Partnership. A chance to teach American hunters, maybe even learn from you. A friendship if you will."

The witch was still flustered by the "study you" comment and crossed her arms. Dean felt frustrated, for multiple reasons besides being generally irritated by the situation, "You kidnapped and tortured my brother. Why would I want anything to do with you?"

"This was supposed to be a peaceful mission. I brought down the warding so your angel friend could get in. Although it seems that you managed to find a way in anyway." He was back to giving Chelsea this seemingly innocent grin that made her squirm.

The room was awkwardly silent until the angel said, "I don't detect any malice from this man."

The witch agreed, "Me either."

Despite the votes of confidence the Winchesters, all three of them, flinched when he reached into his jacket, "Just fetching my card."

He continued to look utterly amused as the witch magicked it to her hands. Turning it over before wordlessly passing it to Dean. "Give me a ring when you're ready to talk."

Sam clutched his ribs and sighed, "Let's just get out of here."

Castiel helped him across the room, Mary behind, Dean following with the witch in tow. Chelsea stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked over at the woman, "I see you again I'll snap your neck."

"No worries, love." Mick started, adjusting his jacket and joining her in glaring at the blonde, "She's going back to London permanently."

"Chelsea let's go!" Dean shouted down into the basement and of course she followed his order.


	19. Secondhand Emotion

**Chapter 19**

 **Secondhand Emotion**

A/N: Thank you so much to anyone who has reviewed lately. The good vibes and praise are so motivating!

* * *

"How do you feel?"

"I um..." Sam sat in the backseat with Chelsea, freshly healed although still sore and thoroughly confused. He stared at the back of his mother's head and didn't continue so she nodded.

"That makes sense."

He chuckled awkwardly, "Just a lot to process."

Mary and Dean looked to each other at that but the occupants of the back seat missed it. Chelsea felt Dean's flash of guilt and was thoroughly confused. Maybe just the overwhelming and constant feeling of needing to protect his little brother made him feel like he'd failed.

Chelsea reached over and tucked Sam's hair behind his ear, feeling her own guilt feed off of Dean's. Guilt from leaving in the first place, "I should have stayed with you."

"It was over." Was his answer and he finally looked her in the eyes, "I gave you your ring."

"And a choice." He watched her bite her lip and cast her hazel eyes down, "I should have chosen differently."

He put a hand on her knee, squeezing in a comforting way only Sam could manage after he himself had been through such an ordeal, "You're here now."

Dean watched silently from the front seat through the rearview, he glanced away to watch the road and glanced back to the witch's pointed gaze. His guilt was congealing into a steaming mess with a dash of jealousy on top and she could feel it.

What exactly was he even jealous of?

* * *

"Thank you for protecting Dean today."

Chelsea and Mary entered the kitchen together, one having chosen to join the other to fetch dessert after they'd destroyed two buckets of Sandy's Chicken and a parade of sides.

The witch smiled at the woman as she grabbed a case of beer and a stack of napkins, "Oh that was nothing. I've learned that he's too prepared to do things alone when he doesn't have to."

"Its strange. I still see my little boy when I look at him. He was a stubborn and independent toddler too."

Chelsea smiled, her eyes lighting as she did, "That's actually insanely adorable to imagine."

"And Sam..." She drifted off, "I wasn't with him long."

"He's got a big heart. He trusts first and unconditionally. But he's smart about it."

This time Mary smiled warmly. This was all still so strange to her. All the same, her instincts as their mother hadn't changed. "I think you're good for them both. But Dean..."

Chelsea caught onto the suggestion as they entered back into the hall, "Oh! _That_ actually has little to do with him." she wanted that to be true but the witch could taste the lie. She knew where Mary was going with the comment and she knew her little dance with Dean was obvious. But despite her heart pounding as they travelled home, ate, and even now because of the ring resting on his chest, she wasn't willing to face that, "It has more to do with the ring and someone from my past who was a lot like him."

Mary was still amused and not swayed from what she knew she saw. Even before she'd given her eldest the ring, "How far in the past are you suggesting?"

"Far enough that it shouldn't still be relevant."

In a true gesture of motherly comfort, Mary stopped just short of the entrance to where the brother's were still sitting and laughing, making eye contact and warming Chelsea to her core, "Unfortunately that's not how the past works. No matter how long you've been alive."

When the women reentered Dean was just finishing and Sam was lent back in his chair, rubbing his own stomach. "That was delicious. Thanks mom." the older greeted.

"All I did was point at a takeout menu. I would have cooked but..." she chuckled a bit as she trailed off, sitting down, "But I don't."

This came as a shock to her oldest son, "But your meatloaf was amazing."

"It came from the Piggly Wiggly."

Chelsea snorted a touch as she laughed, making her way around the table, putting the beer between the brothers and touching Sam lightly on the shoulder as she passed him before sitting.

Sam chuckled a bit too at Dean's look of incredulous confusion. His mom slid the pie over to his spot and said, "But do you still like pie?"

He was instantly smiling and straightening up in his seat, "Oh I love pie."

As he served himself a hefty helping of blueberry pie, Chelsea magicked herself a slice and glanced over at Sam, catching him staring at his mother. Mary noticed as well and put her chin in her hand, smiling at him.

"Sam, you keep looking at me like I'm going to explode."

He chuckled lightly, "Sorry."

She just smiled and changed the subject. "So, are we buying that Brit's whole 'let's be friends' thing?"

The brothers sounded out a round of "no's" but the witch said nothing. Instead choosing to try and hide behind her slice of pie.

"Chels?" Sam asked.

"I just didn't sense that he was lying or anything." she pushed the pie around her plate a little, "Neither did Castiel."

Dean went back to shoveling pie into his face, "Well, majority rules."

"Which is why I stayed quiet." she said almost under her breath. When she looked up again to see why there was silence, Sam and Mary were watching in awe as Dean inhaled the rest of his pie. It was all over his face and his cheeks were stuffed, "You noticed I put the stack of napkins in-front of _you_ right?" she commented.

As the rest of table laughed he sheepishly put down his plate and grabbed a few napkins, wiping the mess of blueberry off his face.

"Anyway," Mary started, "We should call up the internet and find out more about these people."

The other three all looked to each other; trying to make sure they'd all heard the same thing. After a brief exchange of strange facial expressions each one devolved into a fit of laughter varying from full on tears to trying and failing to keep a straight face.

"Was that not right?" Mary asked innocently.

"Close."

"So close."

* * *

"Is that tea?"

Chelsea crossed her arms as she approached Sam in the hall on her way to the kitchen. He looked oddly energized and smiled at her as they swiveled in tandem to let each other by in the narrow hall.

"Yeah, it's for mom."

His innocence in that moment lit her face up and he almost fumbled the tea cup. The witch steadied it with a distant hand and smirked knowingly, "Does she even drink tea?"

Regret and worry washed over his face, seeing as he didn't know. Chelsea was still smiling and put her hands on his shoulders, "Relax! I'm sorry." she chuckled, "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture. She loves you."

While he was noticing her low sitting sweatpants and slightly higher sitting t-shirt she noticed the brown leather book tucked under his arm. "What's that?"

"Oh uh…It was my dads. He kept a hunter's journal."

"Wow, I didn't know you guys do that."

"Dean and I don't." It almost sounded like he was a little disappointed, but also unsure.

"You should." her green eyes got a far off look as she crossed her arms under her chest, "Sometimes writing things down, especially when life has been a little traumatic; its like releasing it all."

"Speaking from experience?"

"Nathaniel got me a beautiful book. The cover was a gorgeous red, very expensive to get the die that bold at that time and he fretted over it." she sighed wistfully, "It had to be perfect...for me. But I burned it when he died."

Sam frowned deeply, "Why?"

She smiled a bit, almost like she was relieved to be able to say this, "It was a story that no longer mattered once I got the chance at a new life." a shrug, "I didn't need to tote it around and no one would have been any better for knowing what was in it."

He just nodded quietly and she turned on her heel, "Goodnight Sam."

He called out to her, "You headed to the kitchen?"

"Yeah." She called back, continuing on to the corner of the next hallway to the kitchen, "Gonna grab a beer."

Sam took a moment to feel a touch of disappointment. They both knew she didn't _need_ to go to the kitchen to get beer. She could just move one to her room. They both also new, apparently, that Dean was in the kitchen. He'd left his older brother there as he rummaged in the fridge for the same aforementioned drink and, by Sam's guess, he hadn't moved.

* * *

Dean had tucked himself between two rows of counters; on the floor and in the dark, with all the pictures of his mom that his dad somehow saved after their home burned to the ground with Mary inside. He reach up over his head to the counter behind him for the beer he'd placed there. When he didn't feel it he turned and Chelsea grinned down at him, holding said beer.

"Want some company?"

He sighed. "I don't feel like talking."

"We don't have to talk." She sat across from him, leaning her back on the opposite cabinets. She handed him the beer, "I can just sit here with you."

"I want to be alone."

"I don't think you do. I think you're just used to it being that way and you feel like admitting that will make you weak." His expression portrayed his frustration and skepticism as the woman made her own beer appear on the floor next to her, "I'm not reading your mind." her eyes moved down to the ring on his chest, "I'm just...understanding you."

"I can give this thing back if you're always going to be bothering me."

She smirked as she took a sip, her gaze back up to his eyes, "You could."

But he wouldn't.

"You don't want it back?" He knew the answer, especially since he was understanding her a bit too. The ring was odd. It was like she was standing right next to him all the time.

Chelsea reached forward and took a picture off his leg, smiling down at a young Dean and Mary, "I don't."

They sat in admittedly comfortable silence for a few minutes before the Winchester felt like he'd burst, "Why me? I mean, you seemed really against it before."

"I'm still against it somewhere deep down. There's that little voice telling me this will probably bite me in the ass, like it has before. But I also like what I can do with someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

She magicked them each another beer, "The last person with the ring was so well matched with me that he didn't have to say anything to make me do something." She stopped to gauge his reaction.

Dean opened both beers and upon passing back the witch's drink he gestured for her to go on.

She took a deep drink, "He was a hunter, for his time anyway."

"His time?"

"Eighteen seventy-seven." she said trying not to grin, "Tombstone, Arizona before it officially became a founded city like two years later."

Dean was lost on the grin until he realized, "Tombstone Arizona as in the gunfight at O.K Coral! Only one of the most iconic gun fights in Wild West history?" He was positively giddy at the news and Chelsea waited patiently for him to simmer down.

"A gunfight I missed by years. That's not really the point."

"Right right." he took a swig of beer, "Go on."

"I was only in Tombstone because it was rumored a girl working at the tailor was a witch. I needed some things and had gone to talk to her. Aaron was there to kill her and ended up killing me too. I took a bullet between the eyes."

"Sounds familiar."

"Doesn't it? So you sense my worry?"

"But you gave him the ring right? So what happened? What did he do that was so bad?"

She put the bottle down and crossed her arms, "He made me watch him die, Dean."

"Oh..."

"We'd been together for almost five years. I didn't even tell him about the ring, and it being why I couldn't die, for almost two years after we'd been hunting things. I married him with that ring."

"We're not engaged now are we?"

Despite herself she laughed a little, "No, no we're not. But I gave that to you because I think you can do what he can. Pulling me through that warding proved it. With the ring in his possession I felt like pure power. My magic was so focused and lethal; half the time there was no order, just a suggestion or a feeling."

He finished off his beer, leaning his head back. When he sat back up she was offering him another, "You _did_ want another right?" He did, but he hadn't said it out loud.

"How did he die?"

"Barn fire a few months after his last kill."

"Months?"

She was looking sad and far off, "Other hunters learned about me; they wanted answers, they wanted my magic. We'd spent months hunting nothing, just running." tears leaked from her eyes and she wiped them furiously, "He offered to meet them when they finally caught up; to discuss working together, but he knew he was going to die in that barn and told me to stay behind. Ordered me to."

"They killed him. But the ring, why didn't they just take it?"

"They didn't know about it. I was just a witch to them, one they knew couldn't die and that he controlled but couldn't find out how." she sighed. "And uh...they didn't kill him."

Dean realized in that moment, " _He_ set the fire."

"He did. Killed himself and all those other assholes in one move. I died in the fire too, actually. It's how I made a smooth escape back east. I shot myself when I saw the smoke across town and when I woke up I went right to him."

"You were too late."

She chuckled awkwardly, "Yeah, I was. A beam had fallen on him and he just looked at me and, again, ordered me not to help. So I sat there, and watched him die horribly."

"I'm sorry. My mom...that's how she died."

"Fire?"

The Winchester's eyes were moist already, but a tear or two escaped before he forced back the rest, "Bastard Demon did it..."

"I wish a demon had killed him. Would have made my outlook on hunters simpler. I loved my time as one, then to be betrayed by them like that. I went off on another bender until the early seventies; dealt with hunters the whole way. Most of the time I let the idiots kill me, it was easier than getting into anything else."

"Then Matthew."

"That was a curve ball. A child of Nathaniel conceived using magic?" she made a mind blow gesture and finished her beer. "But I'm supposed to be here. I know what I said before, and I know I jumped on my opportunity to leave when I got it."

"Are you sure? And you want me to keep this?"

"I'm sure. Just promise you will never stop me from helping. Don't make me watch any of you die when I could have stopped it."

Dean held out the neck of his beer bottle and the witch clinked it with her own, "I promise."


End file.
